Resident Evil Untold Stories: Beginnings
by Dark Glass Marionette
Summary: REWRITING IN PROGRESS *Spin-off* The Birkins have survived the Raccoon City disaster, their life as a family beginning again. A struggle to keep Sherry safe begins, as danger menaces the girl. Plans are set into motion, and somebody lends a helping hand.
1. Chapter One: Insanity

**Author's Note:** And here it is, a new story I'm working on _hard_, just so you know. I warn you, this is a SPIN-OFF from RE2, kinda taking the situation into my own hands. Be at peace, my friends, as you might be wondering... "How the heck will everything be turned around?" You'll see, and I say there's nothing supernatural in this story; everything is related to everything, no need to worry. Also, I'll be updating this weekly, because I don't have a lot of time. I have a few chapters ready so I'll be posting them without interruptions.

This story contains at the beginning sections from both scenarios Claire A and Leon B, but several things are changed for this one to make sense. I repeat, it is a spin-off. And a bit of romance (a bit, I ask myself? xDD), drama... and yeah, general genres. And last, but not least, I would like to dedicate this story to the best Cleon writer ever (from my point of view, you might hold another) Hobohunter, because there are surprises on this one *winks eye*

Without anything else, enjoy!^^

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**Resident Evil Untold Stories: Beginnings**

1

Insanity

Annette pulled herself out of the water with just one arm, her right side and shoulder as if screaming at her to stay put. Enduring the pain, she stood up and, unable to hold her balance for long, she staggered and collided with her back against the wall, exhausted. She fell and sat, saw her shoulder bleeding profusely, strips of cloth hanging from her tattered lab coat. The damp, along with the wet clothes that stuck to her body, made her start trembling, the cold breeding tiredness, her tiredness breeding determination, solid determination to put an end to everything that was going on. She would blow everything up, and that Ada Wong with everything… she would get her daughter out of the city, escape, _survive_.

She carefully lowered her lab coat and shirt, exposing the swollen and bleeding wound at her shoulder. There were glass shards stuck in it, gleaming like rubies, stained with her blood and looking difficult to get out. She winced as she made an attempt to grab one with her fingertips, but it stung too much, and the last thing she needed was an infection. She would make it back to level five, she _would_. Annette's head slumped backwards, touching the cool, humid wall, and she swallowed hard as her breaths became shorter and quicker. With a grunt of exertion, she lifted herself up and to her feet again, her blue eyes fixing themselves upon the door. She started walking towards it, keeping her balance much better, and as the door opened at the keys' command, she smiled, a humourless smile growing across her lips.

It wasn't until she bumped her hand with the wall that she noticed her fingers still clutching the gun's handle. How many bullets were left, she didn't know; what she _did_ know was that, if she came to see Ada again, one of those bullets was going through her brow. Annette would delight to see the spy's head surrounded in a pool of her own blood. Sadistic thoughts, those could be, but that would overwhelm the pain she had suffered all that time, after her eyes had found the lab room empty, William's blood spattered on the desk. She had called for him, but she received no reply; she had looked for him, but didn't see him: he had vanished without a trace. Soon, Annette caught glimpse of him through a surveillance camera, and witnessed an abomination linger in the halls.

_No, not 'abomination'… he's __my husband… he's still alive!_

Her inner voice soon contradicted her, but Annette silenced it, convinced by her earlier thoughts. All of that thinking made her feel sick and she leaned against the wall again, her blond tresses falling in front of her face. Beads of sweat slid down her brow and temples, and a knot formed in her stomach. The pain was killing her, but she refused to give up; even if it hurt, she wouldn't submit to the pain… she was determined to continue. Her mind could just think about that, was only driven by that: determination, almost _blind_ determination. Annette wasn't willing to stop and think about the problems that could appear; however, she still knew she could run into some. She would avoid them… and make it out.

She was treading softly, her wet steps echoing across the dark hall, when a repeated click of nails muted every other sound, and Annette turned around, her face becoming a mask of horror. A Licker, hanging from the ceiling, jaws drooling, wide open, showing its razor-like teeth. Annette backed away slowly, not taking her eyes off the creature, not making any sound. The Licker could still hear her, and it dropped to the ground, its head cocked in her direction, its acute hearing catching even the sound of her breathing. It kept coming closer, delighting in her agitated breathing, feeling the tension in her body, and it leaped toward her.

Annette stumbled backwards, avoiding the claw by just inches, feeling it swoosh past her face, and crawled away. _The gun, Annette!_, she told herself. Lifting it as fast as she could, she took aim at the creature's prominent brain and fired, the bullets riddling the brain and spattering tissue and fluids around. The Licker screeched, recoiling, but still kept coming, blood falling to the floor. Annette grunted, horror coursing through her system even if knowing it was wounded; the Lickers were persistent sons of bitches. And _bam!_, she fired again and the Licker, with one last screech, convulsed and stayed dead before Annette.

She took short, quivering breaths, recovering from the shock. She had seen them thousands of times, but those times, she wasn't wounded, she wasn't sick, she wasn't even unable to walk properly, something quite different from now. She stood up again and continued down the hall, knowing the elevator would turn up sometime. And then, another scream, painful and somehow full of despair… William's.

_He's coming… he's coming for me… __he's coming…_

Annette's mind constantly repeated that, surprisingly making Annette go faster than before, forgetting all pains, bruises or scratches she might have in her body. An image suddenly flashed through her head, making a smile play across her face, faint but full of relief.

_And Sherry's probably still safe in the station, just like I told her to do… I need to see her, I need to find out how she is… Please, God, protect her. _She wasn't much of a Christian, but given the circumstances, any little help was enough.

Annette was racking with pain, so much she came to cough up blood. Each step she took was like a thousand daggers stabbing her without mercy. She took a right, and found the elevator to level five not too far away from her. She lightened up, knowing she was closer to find the control room. She pushed the button and fell against the wall on her good shoulder, trying to calm herself down, trying to tell herself everything would be over soon. A part of her, however, wasn't so sure. The _ping_ of the elevator gave her the good news she was expecting, but every hope for a clear path was swept away by the image of another Licker. Annette had just encountered one, and she didn't take more than two seconds to train her gun on the creature and fire, the bullets digging into its swollen brain.

"Oh, no, you're not going to stop me!" she muttered under the sound of the gun. It didn't have any time to hear its prey, and it dropped in front of the door, as dead as its sibling a few metres away from them. Annette got inside, pushed the button to level five and the only thing she could do was wait. Wait for the elevator to go up, wait an eternity for the _goddamned_ thing to climb up the shaft.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He smelled her, her scent as unmistakeable as always, even if disguised by the water's stench. The scent was mild, but he felt as if he had her right in front of him, as if she hadn't left him for a second, lingering. He paced down the hall towards its end, resuming his restless search, and he just had another track to follow. The little girl had been impregnated already, and it was a matter of time till the embryos pupated inside her, and another new being would be born. It suddenly hit him, who was she? He decided not to care; it wasn't as important as what he had to do. And then it happened, as fast as before.

_Boom…_

His heart hammered in his head, quickened and pounded strongly in his chest. A wave of pain struck his head; it throbbed, so much he felt as if it were to explode. He released another yell, tinged with even more pain than before, his whole body racking, seeming like hundreds of thousands of painful stabs riddling his whole being. His muscles tensed, contracting violently, he arched his body backwards, clenching his jaw and trying to fight the pain, trying to fend off the conscience that started to emerge.

He could feel it, fighting its way to the surface with all its strength, but no… _he_ was the predominant being, _he_ was in control and he _would _be for as long as he said he would. He clenched his talons, drawing blood, and another scream…

A human scream.

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Annette was finally back into B5, like she could tell by the second _ping_ of the elevator. The doors opened slowly and she popped her head out, looking in all directions. Coast clear, she headed down the halls as fast as her legs allowed her to go, each step reminding her of the forgotten pain that coursed through her system. As she entered a room and fumbled in the closet, her heart was lightened with a small ray of hope: a first aid kit rested upon a shelf. Annette took it, and stepped into the lab. _"William!"… "Oh, darling…"… "Stay here…"…_ The recollection brought tears to her eyes again, or so she thought. There were no more tears to shed, none.

Annette rushed past the desk and stepped into the computer room, stopping in front of the consoles. With her good hand, she opened the kit, took out the tweezers and worked on plucking the shards from her flesh. It stung like hell and some had dug deeper, though working carefully made her success in her task. Blood oozed from the wound; Annette quickly cleaned it, staining the cotton, applied a dressing and bandaged it as well as she could. Putting everything back into the case, she sighed tiredly and stood panting, feeling her lids heavy. _No, I have to stay awake… I can't doze off right now. I need to get a sample ready; I can still make it out of here… They _won't_ get it, they won't take it away from me! _

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Claire found herself in a metal balcony, facing the shaft, the horrible plant's vines swirling next to her with disgusting sounds. Pulling a face in disgust, she suddenly heard a light hiss, and she noticed the green bump in front of her. _Oh, God…_, her mind exclaimed. Another of those mutated, humanoid plants. Before it could turn around and do anything to her, Claire stepped on the ladder and climbed down, trying not to slip, her fingers becoming sticky because of the damp steps. Once down, she entered through another door and followed down the halls, going as fast as she could. She needed to find Annette, needed to tell her about Sherry's situation; her mother would surely be able to help.

Only question was, would she be willing to?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Annette searched thoroughly through the lab, her eyes trying to spot a virus sample. Now that she remembered and thought about it, hadn't William hid one of them? She was determined to find it, if that was the case. Ada could be there at any moment to steal it and, though Annette didn't expect her to find the labs, everything was possible. Her foot slipped on a paper sheet, she almost fell but regained her balance as she flailed her arms in the air. Collecting herself, she shifted her gaze to the floor and picked up the paper. She recognised the handwriting: William's. Pain tugged at her heart, but she kept steady, her eyes carefully going over his words.

'_I simply have the feeling they'll be here at any moment. I keep looking around, hoping it will be later than sooner. __ Annette's not here, but I'm sure she'll find this. I don't think anybody will be interested in a mad scientist's personal notes. Annette, I've hidden a sample of G in a secret compartment in a closet. It's very well hidden, only for you to find. Go to your desk and you'll find a drawn rectangle at its side; use something to open it and you'll find a console. The code is 2161986. You'll hear a click; look in the closet and it will be there. I don't know why, but I have the feeling I won't be around by the time you get to read this, it must be my paranoia. Let's hope it doesn't turn out to be like that… Just in case, and just so you know, I love you, hon.'_

Annette felt another lump in her throat, this time bigger than previous ones. She held the note close to her chest, sudden disbelief taking over her soul. Why? Why had it happened like that? They didn't deserve it…

_I love you too, William. God, why?_

Annette followed William's instructions, going as fast as she could without messing up. She found the console and typed in the code, suddenly smiling sadly. _The day of our marriage… February the sixteenth_, she told herself, wistful. The click she was supposed to hear reached her ear and she quickly stood up and went to the closet, where she found the sample. She smiled humourlessly again, picking it up and admiring it with the look William had held so many times: a look full of wicked triumph.

She returned to the control room, sample in hand, gun in the other, and looked through all the monitors, smiling with glee. Suddenly the door opened, Annette swivelled and aimed the gun at the newcomer: that girl again. She'd seen her with that cop, which meant she was with Ada… with Umbrella.

"Annette!" she exclaimed. Annette was shaking with fury.

"You killed my husband! I'll never forgive you for that! And I can swear to you that you won't take the G-virus away from me, you _never_ will!"

"Please, stop! Calm down, I'm not going to hurt you nor take the sample! You have to help me, Sherry's in danger!"

Annette's eyes widened and her demeanour changed, "Sherry?" she gasped, "How do you know about her?" Claire proceeded to explain.

"Sherry's been implanted with G embryos, and there's no telling when they'll pupate! If that happens, Sherry won't… won't…" Claire's voice faded away, leaving Annette filled up with dread. _DEVIL! The vaccine!_, she thought. Annette hesitated and analysed the situation: Sherry was in danger, and if that girl knew her and hadn't hurt her daughter by now, it meant she meant no harm. There was no more time to analyse; a long scream came from the main hall.

"William!" Annette exclaimed. Forgetting about Claire, about the danger of her actions, she broke into a run, crossed the threshold and went desperately to find her husband. He was coming, and she'd be there.

_WHAM!_

The cover of the ceiling fell, and William appeared in front of her. Annette stopped dead on her tracks, eyes wide open and paralysed with dread and horror. William loomed over her, his face starting to disappear under the abomination's pectoral. A new head had appeared in its place, a lipless grinning face looking at her wickedly under the muscle that covered it, and the eyeball on its shoulder staring at her with the same glee previously in Annette's eyes.

She wanted to back away, but the sight held her in place. William snarled; no, the monster controlling him did. That thing didn't deserve her husband's name. She couldn't believe it; still, she was convinced William was still there.

"William, you're alive!" she said in a soft voice. The monster didn't react, just looked at her, breathing calmly. He could not attack her, why? She was his next victim, a victim he'd searched so thoroughly for. He was being held back by it, by the conscience inside him; his instincts controlled and restrained. Why? Because that other entity seemed to know who that woman was, and she was somehow important. Why care? After all, she was just—

'_My wife!'_

He heard its scream, raging from deep inside his mind; he didn't listen and bared its teeth in a growl. The woman gasped, turned away and started to run, and the next thing he felt was her flesh being slashed by his talons, the warm feeling of her blood staining them, and the scream in agony that escaped Annette's lips. Annette's body flipped in the air and she landed with a wet thud, blood spattering the walls and sprays of crimson staining his face. Another scream howled in the back of its mind again, a scream of rage, despair and horror.

And another spark of sanity… and insanity.

The monster jumped up to the shafts again and ran away from the scene, leaving the dying woman behind. It skidded to a stop and yell rose from its throat, the sound as if wanting to shake the building to its foundations.

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Annette moaned in pain and sorrow, feeling tears welling up in her eyes again and rolling down her cheeks. Her blood soon formed a pool beside her, the gaping wound at her side itching and throbbing, leaving out a good amount of it. Annette stretched one arm forward, as if trying to reach somewhere, and grunted through gritted teeth. She heard a voice, unintelligible, calling out her name, but she didn't listen nor did she care. _William, why?_, she was asking herself. Annette lifted her gaze, her locks of hair on her face again, and then she looked back, saw the girl getting near her and kneeling beside her. Her face was a mask of concern, and Annette didn't have another choice: she needed her help.

She felt the girl's hands turn her around, facing upwards, and her eyes met Annette's. Annette winced and dropped her head, breathing heavily and a trickle of blood going down the corner of her mouth. Her energies were slipping away, she was turning cold and her heartbeat was much slower. She came to a conclusion: she'd die sooner or later.

Claire's face was a mask of shock, horror and concern. The wound seemed mortal, but she thanked God the monster's talons hadn't reached any vital points. She needed attention, and fast. Annette was losing consciousness, she was paling and her breathing was rougher by the second. With the knife on her shoulder, Claire ripped of a good portion of Annette's lab coat and made a firm knot around the wound to stop the bleeding as much as she could.

"Annette! Annette!" the girl called again. She turned her attention to her, peering up at her blue gaze.

"There's… a kit in… the con-control room…" she croaked, pressing at the wound. The girl nodded, slid one of Annette's arms around her shoulders and carefully lifted her up, Annette exclaiming in complete pain.

"Can you walk?" Annette nodded, and they both started back to the control room, Annette's soul shattering to a thousand pieces. William would think she was dead now, and the only thing he had left to do was to keep finding people to implant with embryos… She refused to believe he was gone…

But the truth can be _so_ cruel…

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A/N: Well, first chapter's up to here. What do you expect for the next one? xDDD You shall see, I shall keep you with the cliffhanger xD

Reviews would be appreciated, but no flames please.


	2. Chapter Two: Doubt

**Author's Note:** As I promised, weekly updates. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks for taking your interest^^

**Special thanks to all reviewers.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil or any of its characters.**

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2

Doubt

His body started changing. It started by the arms; they grew beyond human proportions, their talons growing and spikes of bone appearing at the elbows. From the muscles in its side, a squelching sound was accompanied by protruding bones, which then transformed into two symmetrical arms, exposing its muscle tissue. Razor-like talons also appeared on those arms, fully developed, gleaming under the faint light as though they were swords, and the eyeball on its shoulder grew even to a bigger size.

Then, the legs. They became sturdier, exposing their grey muscle as the whole body did, becoming skinless throughout the process. A tumour appeared on its leg, like another eyeball, gazing around as if it had a conscience of itself. The nails at the feet grew, transforming it into a panther's claw, even deadlier. The head developed completely, having formed a harder bone skull, and the deadly grin fully visible.

There was just one part left, his chest… and that's when everything began reverting.

William, the _true_ William's conscience was still there, struggling to break free of the monster's control. It was vulnerable when mutating; every part of its body was unstable, and there wouldn't be a better moment to finally win the fight. Though killing a conscience was difficult, let alone impossible, to kill its body was doable, perfectly possible. William would make it out victorious and taking hold of every fibre in his body, he obliged it to change. There was nothing more horrible for him than to hear his own screams in agony, but nothing more relieving than hearing his own voice coming from his own throat.

His body started burning, as if lying on hot embers. Every step in the mutating process was reverting, slowly but surely, but the monster soon put a stop to it. William knew the solution to the problem… and he headed back to the lab.

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Claire finished bandaging Annette's wound and made a strong knot. Annette was pale, with little colour on her cheeks, and her breathing was slow but steady. Her eyelids opened, revealing her tired blue hues, which searched around for Claire. She found her, concern etched across her young features, and then looked down at where Claire's hand rested. Laying hers upon Claire's, she spoke quietly.

"I have detailed information about the synthesis. Everything you need is right here," Claire nodded as Annette took the file from her pocket, folded. Annette felt relief course through her: she hadn't activated the destruct sequence yet and Claire would be able to fabricate the vaccine along with her. As she tried to sit up, task in which she succeeded with difficulty, Claire returned to the room, a small bunch of papers clutched in her hands. She handed them to Annette, who skimmed through them.

"What you need is—" Annette grunted through gritted teeth again as she stood up, Claire trying to stop her, "—in another room. Come with me," she said.

"Annette, your—"

"I'm alright, okay?" Annette snapped, harsher than she pretended to. Claire didn't mind; she had had enough, but she couldn't shake the horrible feeling that Annette would bleed to death, "The base vaccine is in the lower lever… I can make it," she added before Claire could say anything.

"Right. I've done my best with the wound." Suddenly, a dull _boom_ and a recorded female voice starting speaking about their heads.

'_**The self-destruct sequence has been activated. Repeat: the self-destruct sequence has been activated. This sequence may not be aborted. All employees proceed to the emergency car at the bottom platform.'**_

"Damn… I don't think I'll slow you down. Let's go." Said Annette, and they both started walking when Claire, as she glanced at the monitors, spotted Leon on one of them.

"Leon, you made it!" she said through the radio. Annette stopped, looked at her and then at the monitors, and she was filled with dread again when she saw Leon. _ Not that cop again…_

"_Claire, is that you? Where are you?_"

"I can see on you on the monitor," Claire replied with a short smile. Leon looked up, and she continued, "But that doesn't matter now. Leon, you have to get Sherry back for me, I left her in the security office. Please, you must save her!" Annette's eyes widened again in disbelief. _No!_

"_Wait a sec, where are you going?_" asked Leon with dread.

"I have a few loose ends to take care of. I'm counting on you!" Leon said no more, and Claire knew he was on his way. When the girl looked at Annette, she was paralysed by the horror that her blue gaze harboured, "It's alright, he's with me. I can assure you Leon will not hurt Sherry." She told Annette. She tilted her head to one side, distrustful, but without any other choice.

"Okay. Let's hurry." Although the gashes had been deep, Annette could move without much difficulty; she even jogged at Claire's pace. Randomly, she slowed down, stabs of pain torturing her wounded side, but she kept going restlessly, the only thing in her mind being her daughter's safety.

"Go!" Claire didn't hesitate and went up the ladder, Annette following as closely as she could. Once up, they entered the West area and followed down the hall, only to find an Ivy standing right in front of them. Claire delivered a few shots to its body, trying only to stun it and save ammunition; she did right and they crossed the door behind it. Crossing the bridges to the blue lighted door leading to the East area, they entered there and went straight ahead, finding the Lab room at the end of the hall. Claire used the cardkey: they were inside the VAM room.

"This is it. Claire, take that vaccine cartridge on that tray," Annette commanded. Her pace was slowed down when a moan filled the room and a wave of decay reached their noses.

"Oh, man…" Claire sighed. Firing twice and hitting its skull, the zombie dropped dead in front of them.

"Thank you," said Annette without looking back and activating the light switch. The VAM was illuminated by a red light and Claire accompanied Annette to the other side of the room. Disposing of the other zombies in there, Annette took the MO disk, shoved it in her pocket but then undid her action, "You take it. I wouldn't like to lose it." Claire took the disk and waited for Annette to talk, for she had leaned over a bit and was breathing heavily.

"Right. Go over to the console and use the cartridge there. Tell me when it's ready."

"Okay," said Claire turning around. Claire ran to the machine, did as Annette told her and said a 'Done' in response. Annette configured the controls and activated the switch, which made the VAM to start working. They both watched in awe, both praying that the machine would work correctly.

And it did.

"Yes!" exclaimed Claire taking the base vaccine. Annette couldn't help but to give out a smile and neared Claire, "What now?" she asked.

"We need to get back to the lab. There's a synthesis machine in there that can perfect it. We need to get there, fast." Annette replied. Claire was relieved: she had regained her colour and her eyes gleamed lively again. With no time to waste, they were on their way again. Annette felt her soul lighten up.

_I'm coming, Sherry. Don't you worry! You're going to be fine, I promise!_

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He was getting nearer the lab, he could sense them coming to the same place, both the girl and the woman. Some part of him was delighting in that thought… _some_ unknown part. Why delight? Why was he feeling like that? He had no control over his body now, why? It was always the same thing: why, why, why… And he didn't have an answer, no goddamned answer to that 'why'.

He turned left, knowing he was right under the control room, and crashed through the ceiling, the plank dropping with a loud noise to the metal floor. He sniffed the air, his beastly instincts working accurately, and he smelled blood, fresh blood, coming from a stain in a bed. He got near it, and the monster licked it, this time delighting in its taste. He knew whose blood that was: A-A-A—

_Annette's!_

He released yet another howl in pain, stepping awkwardly away from the bed, as the other entity tortured his own conscience, nagging and restless. It was as if it was trying to pull a puppet's strings as the puppeteer and make the puppet move as he willed. Sane and insane, sane and insane, like this and that, every time. Would it be _that_ painful, and would it happen so many times? He wasn't in control anymore, nor was the conscience.

The door opened again and as he turned around, he found them: both women staring at him in disbelief. He found the woman's eyes, two beautiful blue eyes, filled only with horror… but there was some kind of warmth in them, dull, but it was still there. He heard a name… William.

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"William…" Annette gasped, staring at his deformed face in the monster's chest. It was almost invisible, and then, something Annette didn't think she'd see. Suddenly, blood started pouring from the monster's right pectoral, and Annette recognised the face that slowly came out, fighting its way out of the muscle and covered in blood, "William!" Annette exclaimed again, taking a step forward. A shriek, furious and frightened, escaped the monster's bone mouth.

"A… Annette!"

She and Claire gasped at the same time, shocked and disgusted by the scene. William's voice was crystal clear, his sweet tone now rougher than ever before. Blue gaze against blue gaze, William tried to speak, but both he and the monster screamed in pain, two different voices creating one frightening and heartrending sound. The monster took a step forward with obvious difficulty, getting its talons ready for an attack.

"Shoot!" William told them, but the monster shrieked as if arguing with him. He didn't listen, and repeated his command. Annette raised the gun slowly, her hands trembling, suddenly feeling unable to hurt even a fly. Claire did the same and, as the monster took another step forward, she fired, two bullets riddling his flesh. The monster complained in pain, and across William's face, a smirk spread. _That's it…Good!_

Two more bullets coming from Claire's gun, and it felt like two knives. William was the one who thanked it, not the abomination. His right arm was wounded by the bullets, bleeding profusely, and Annette gave the final blow, hesitant but willing at the same time. And this was William's chance to be human again: forcing his whole body to work and using his regenerative abilities to his advantage, a normal arm, _his_ arm started forming again in the other arm's place, as good as new. Slowly, his bones and muscles regained their normal size, his skin covered them again and it responded as it hadn't even changed.

Claire fired at its legs and William collapsed to his knees, making them change to their normal state. That didn't take long, since they hadn't mutated much, and the monster could not believe what was happening to him.

"We need bigger firepower," said Claire, "And this one will help." Claire swung the shotgun hanging from her shoulder up to her waist and aimed.

Annette didn't like the expression on Claire's face, not one bit, and she faced her, her eyes dancing with trepidation.

"Are you trying to kill him?!" Annette chimed in, ceasing fire and lowering the shotgun's cannon.

"I'm trying to stop his… no, _your_ insanity!" Claire snapped yanking away the shotgun, "I can see where this is going and what you're planning to do with the virus! What will happen if I help you? Tell me!" William was the creator of the G-virus. And if hell had been unleashed on earth, the only reason was the T-virus; what would the G-virus cause if it was spilled?

"Why are you helping Sherry then?! If you want to kill us, why let her live too? Why do you care so much about her when you don't know _anything_ about her?!" Annette shot back, furious, "Are you trying to heal her to take her away from us? Is that what you plan to do? Answer me!"

"Because she has nothing to do with the hell you'll sure unleash with the G-virus! At least, that's what I _know_ about her!"

"I'm trying to save this—" she clutched the vial firmly in her hand, "—and start over again with _my_ family! If you help Sherry, you help me too! If you care so much about her, why would you make her an orphan? I do think you're thinking she's had enough of all this, right?" Annette laughed, "Why would you make her sad?"

"I would at least make her happier than you ever did!" Claire shot back. Annette's mask of fury dropped, letting her shock show. By impulse, she punched Claire as hard as she could, making her stagger to one side.

Claire exclaimed in pain, feeling blood on her tongue; she instantly knew those hadn't been the correct words. Annette was somehow right, why would she like to see Sherry cry again after everything that had happened? Yet, if she helped Annette, who knew what would they do? Keep helping Umbrella? Maybe causing another outbreak like that one with the T-virus? She thought of reconsidering her words; maybe helping them would beneficial for everyone… maybe long and short term benefits.

"What will you do once you get out of here?" she asked calmly. Annette collected herself, taken a bit aback by the girl's reaction.

"What do you care?"

"Because I wouldn't want you to keep this up. What will you do, keep helping Umbrella?" Claire asked, folding her arms across her chest.

"Actually, those weren't my intentions after I finished my work," William intervened, his voice as rough as before, maybe even more. Claire and Annette turned their attention to him, Annette thanking the monster had been subdued momentarily, "I planned on leaving the company. I could see their backstab coming; in my days of uneasiness I realised how much of a pawn I was for them. What to do?"

"Get the G-virus secure and sell it to the competence. We were sure than it'd help take Umbrella down or, at least, hurt them and a lot. Since they've already taken the samples… I guess that won't work now." Said Annette in a low voice. She then raised her gaze to meet Claire's, "Now you know what we plan to do. Do you still think we want to cause any more trouble? Why would we want attention drawn to us?"

Claire didn't know what to think. She'd like to believe Annette's words were genuine, that every word about the Birkins would disappear and their name wouldn't be pronounced again, but after knowing that outbreak had been because of Umbrella's work _and_ William's… she wasn't that convinced. Claire eyed Annette suspiciously, her musings swirling around in her head. Claire didn't know how she felt,_ But knowing you were just a pawn… I'd wager it's something not very pleasant to find out. Besides, she… she doesn't look like a bad person, and look at what she told you: they were planning on dealing a blow on Umbrella, but what next? What would they do?_

She sighed, finally putting an end to her thinking, "I wouldn't like to think you're lying, Annette," she said, making Annette frown in anger, "But you're right. I would just make things worse for everyone if I refused to help. I just ask one thing."

Annette couldn't believe it: was she actually _willing_ to help them?

"Please, _don't_ cause any more spills like this; or at least…" Claire sighed, "If this was Umbrella's fault, I'm determined to stop them from claiming more victims. And I would like to think you were going the same way, right? I'm going to help you, but it won't be for free."

Annette caught the hint, so did William. Why would they want any more trouble? It was just going to be complete the virus and forget about everything, finally start living like a normal family, maybe even climb up to the top and set a new course for the whole family.

Claire received a thankful look from Annette, and she wondered whether she had made the correct decision.

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	3. Chapter Three: Human

**Author's Note:** Aww, I'm so sorry I'm two days late. It's just that, finally I've gotten a break and I wanted to rest for a bit. But don't worry, updates will keep coming. Oh and there's a mention of a creature that will make its appearance on Darkside Chronicles; maybe you recognise it (it's in the latest trailer). Enjoy!^^

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3

Human

The monster growled, finally taking over again.

"Annette! Let her do it! You have to shoot!" said William. As a reward, he received a slash from the monster's smaller talon, but he regenerated again, stretching his neck. Annette didn't hesitate this time and requested a magazine from Claire. Slamming it home, Annette raised the weapon again, the booms of the shotgun, the cling of shell casings and the monster's complaints all almost a torture to her ears. Thankfully, William's body was half human again, the only thing remaining were the head and the bigger arms.

Claire lunged forward, reloading the weapon with only two shells, already having her targets. Half of the body still belonged to the monster's consciousness and it desperately tried to hit Claire. The girl dove forward and quickly sprang to her feet again, turning around just as the monster did. It was too quick and it was swinging its arm towards Claire when it missed… seemingly intentionally. Claire stumbled back, her heart pounding in her chest and adrenaline through her veins, and panted as she watched the creature grunt with its talons piercing the floor. Apparently, it couldn't pull them back, and it shrieked in exasperation. Without anything else, Claire knew what to do.

Blood, pain, shouts, exclamations, shell noises… The monster couldn't take it anymore and decided to turn the tables. William looked up to its face, its eyes gleaming with wicked glee, and as he felt something step on his back, he closed his eyes and clenched his fists and jaw, ready to endure the pain that was to come. And it did, searing stabs torturing him, the wet sound of flesh being ripped off reaching his ears. His body arched backwards, releasing a howling complaint in pain, and Claire fell down to the ground, twisting both her wrist and ankle. She crawled away of the pool of blood forming on the floor and growing towards her, William's body convulsing in unbearable pain.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Leon left the elevator, running as fast as he could. His legs were already screaming at him to stop, but he wouldn't listen, he _couldn't_. Man, he'd kill for a break after they got out of the city… if they made it out. He tried pushing away those negative feelings, but he didn't want to cheer himself up with thoughts that were false at that moment. At his left, he noticed the office Claire had mentioned, but there was something weird.

The door was open.

Leon quickly ran inside, filled with dread, and looked in all directions. For Sherry's safety, Claire was supposed to have left the door closed, right? His gaze found the bed, and he gasped, eyes widening and mouth opening in horror.

Sherry was gone.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

With one last cry, William fell to the ground… as a human. Claire had blown away the monster's head, along with the other parts of its body, and his was regenerating quickly, everything returning to its place and all wounds closing. He almost lost consciousness, but he had to stay awake, having to make sure his body wouldn't change again. With a groan in pain and exertion, he stood on his fours, breathing heavily as Annette approached him. Laying a hand on his shoulder, she searched for his gaze, but she still wouldn't find it. Annette helped him stand up, snaking one of his arms around her shoulders, and waited for him to say something. He had stopped breathing. In dread, she almost came to think he had—

_No! Please, no…_

Finally, William's fingers twitched and he moved his head, starting to breathe again. Ever so slightly, he raised his head and, this time, Annette's eyes found his, hiding under his blonde bangs. His dull hues were slowly regaining their lively gleam, and just a small smile flickered across his face. Annette smiled, and it felt good to.

Next thing Claire knew, William's eyes had found hers, and the knot of uneasiness in her stomach grew heavier. Not only she was doubtful, but she was also frightened by the animal gleam his eyes still had. She tried to keep her composure, and the only thing she heard was a dull 'thank you' coming from him, something she definitely didn't expect. She would hate –_How come?_, she asked herself— to break the silence but—

"We're running short of time." She said hoisting the shotgun onto her shoulder. Annette nodded and William completely stood straight, finally getting used to his own body again.

"Where's Sherry?" he asked. First things first.

"She has to be with Leon now, and they might've headed to the train, down in the bottom platform." Claire replied, turning serious. It was William's turn to nod.

"Let's go then."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Oh, goddamn it!" Leon exclaimed leaving the office. Where could've Sherry gone? With his heart racing in his chest and beating strongly, he picked up the radio with one shaky hand, "Claire, do you read me?"

A pause, static, and Claire's voice came through the speaker, "_Yeah. What is it, Leon?_"

"Claire, Sherry's gone. I found the door to the office wide open and she wasn't there; there was only a small trace of, um…," Leon shivered unconsciously at the thought, "White slime on the bed. That's the only thing there is."

"_Shit… Leon, you have to find her._" She replied in a dreadful voice.

"I'll try, though she could've taken either the elevator or the other way… Damn, where are you?"

"_We're still in the labs, working on the vaccine. We'll be there as soon as we can._ _ If you find Sherry, meet us on the train in the lower level, alright?_"

Leon nodded, "Okay. I'll find her." Even Leon wasn't sure of his words; Sherry could've gone anywhere considering how many paths could be taken. And the slime he had found… something told him it was a very bad signal, too bad for his taste. Trying to relax and not succeeding, he went for the door on his far right, somehow knowing Sherry hadn't taken the elevator. His hand touched the handle, and the same moment he felt the cool metal under his fingertips, he heard a high-pitched scream coming from the train.

_Sherry!_

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"What do you mean she's gone?" asked Annette, paling. Claire swallowed hard.

"I don't know. She was in a bad state when I left her; she was too weak to leave the room by herself," she said, fearing for the girl as much as her parents were. William frowned, getting his brain to think again, when he suddenly knew the answer.

"He said he had found slime in Sherry's place?" he asked, trying to get Claire to refresh his memory. Much to his dismay, she nodded, "Damn it… The embryos have pupated." Annette paled even more, and Claire gasped at the sudden news, "There's no need to worry though; that slime is the sign that she hasn't mutated… We just need to find her."

The beep they heard then was like a wave of relief that struck everyone: the vaccine was ready. Claire took it and they quickly made it out of the lab, heading for the train.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Leon took his left and stopped dead on his track, staring in horror at the creature in front of him. He was about to take a step away, his eyes wanting to move elsewhere but they were fixed upon it. He even failed to notice Sherry awkwardly backing away from the monster, her eyes teary, chin trembling and legs almost giving in under her. She was tired and was still feeling sick after throwing up.

The creature could be six feet tall, its large skinless body covered all by a thin layer of solid slime, as if plastic, revealing the glistening muscle of its limbs. Its left eye was impossibly bigger than its right one, the left much more bulkily muscular, with a strong thick hand at the end with long nails and curved like razors. It was completely deformed, hunched over and its spine making its body snake. There was a part of its spine protruding, from middle back to the nape of its almost nonexistent neck. It had two slits as eyes of a gleaming orange colour, a tiny nose and strong jaws, accompanied by almost two rows of teeth on each, upper and lower, and the head was crowned by its slightly protruding bloated brain.

Leon fired his gun, two bullets riddling its sickly-looking flesh; the monster wasn't even fazed, but it turned its attention to Leon, almost giving out a crooked smile.

"Oh, shit! Sherry, get away!" he shouted at the girl as he backed away some steps. The monster gave out a short roar in fury and delight, finally having something to kill. And it wouldn't be a difficult bug to swat.

Through the corner of his eye, Leon saw Sherry head to the elevator at a slow pace and holding her stomach, and then he saw the creature's hand slash the air in front of him, as in slow motion, and he felt his body heavy, almost incapable of moving. He fell onto his side, snatched his gun and trained it on its face, finger sliding to the trigger. Leon fired again, and bullseye, five bullets into its eye. It screamed again, and its stunning bought Leon some time to stand up and start running. Still, he wasn't as far as he would've wanted to be, as something swept the ground and knocked him against the wall. Leon felt and heard a rib crack, yet God forbid; he wasn't totally sure.

_Come on, get up! On your feet!_, he screamed at himself as he fought against the pain. The monster's bloody eyes settled upon him, dancing with mirth as it smiled again, or almost seemed to. _Damn it, I won't hurt it with this… And I'm almost dry!_, Leon told himself standing up. Fortunately, it hadn't moved yet; it was still gazing at its prey. It clicked: hadn't he seen some kind of explosive inside the office, a grenade or something? If it actually hadn't been an illusion, Leon still had a chance of injuring; that bastard wouldn't jump into the arms of the explosion just to see if it wounded him. And Leon saw something else: a small pearl-like tumour on its left shoulder, shining disgustingly under the light.

_It must be its weak point, that thing over there. But it's not going to be easy hitting it, it's too high… Oh well, won't hurt to try. __ How to distract it…? It'll be somehow childish, but that's better than nothing. Please, somebody guarantee me it'll work._

Leon started running towards the monster and just when it was about to swing its hand again, he feinted and ran to his left, towards the front side of the train. He hid behind it, but considering the monster wouldn't be as dumb as he had thought, he chose another option. Quickly going to the other side of the car, he dropped on his belly and rolled under it, taking cover under the shadows. If it had a sense of smell, he was dead. As a bead of sweat ran down his brow, he felt the ground shake under the weight of the creature after every step it took, its hoarse breathing making the hair at his nape stand on an end and its stench making him feel sick.

_Ping!_

The sound was dull, but both human and monster could hear it clearly: the elevator, and for the creature, it meant the girl, it meant the prey. Leon clicked his tongue in annoyance, sound the creature didn't catch, and it started walking towards Sherry, apparently forgetting about Leon. The cop saw his chance: he rolled out from under the car, took careful aim and unloaded the last bullet of the magazine into the tumour. That actually made it tick. Without paying attention to its painful cries, Leon sprinted to the office, pushing himself to the limit, and swept the room with his gaze.

A miracle.

_Somebody loves me!_, he exclaimed as he picked up the grenade from one of the lockers,_ These dumbasses were set to secure everything, huh?_ Taking the catch off, he clutched it firmly in his hand and stepped out, arching his arm back. Then, he threw it as strongly as he could so that it reached. The same moment the grenade left his hand, Leon started running towards the open elevator, towards Sherry, who was too getting inside. The only thing they heard then was the _boom_ of the explosion, and Leon shielded Sherry with his body from the possible debris that could get inside before the doors closed. Once they felt the elevator was going down, Leon turned Sherry around for her to face him, and her tired hues met his.

"Sherry, how are you feeling?"

"F-fine…" she stammered, though she couldn't keep her balance and fell into Leon's arms, again unconscious. Leon bit his lip, taking Sherry's pulse and resting the heel of his hand on her forehead: she was still feverish… and the elevator was slow as hell. Leon pulled her into a protective embraced and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes and feeling his body give into tiredness.

_WHAM!_

The elevator jerked, getting Leon out of his inertia. His head shot up with a gasp and instinctively tightened his grip around Sherry. Springing up to a crouch, he looked everywhere, gaze sweeping the ceiling, when something razor-like dug through the metal and slid in all directions at neck height. Heart racing in his chest, Leon hit the floor as his eyes widened in fear, gazing at the thing that almost screamed for blood. Leon tried aiming at it, but he was unable due to the elevator shaking again, this time stopping at the right floor. As soon as the doors opened, Leon started running while with a heartrending creak, the ceiling was cut open.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A feminine recorded voice reminded everyone of the situation.

_**Attention, five minutes until detonation. Five minutes until detonation.**_

Claire sighed in exasperation as she fumbled through her pockets, finally feeling the shells under her fingertips. Six on her hand, and the six of them were home in no time. The two leaping Lickers screeched in pain, pumped with lead and falling dead. She smirked and raised her head with pride, getting ready for if there was a new skirmish coming. Now that she had faced hell itself, she was much less afraid than before, and was ready to blow the hell out of whatever came. Suddenly, the lights went out with a buzz.

"Okay, we can get going," said Annette, "The power's shut off to feed the emergency system; that way, the train's activated." Claire nodded and they both started for the door out of the power room. They found William outside, still alone, no sign of Leon and Sherry yet. Then, the doors of the elevator opened, and it took them less than a second to recognise who was coming out: Leon… and something else was coming through the ceiling.

"Run!" Leon was shouting and when the three others saw the dog-like creature behind Leon, though only much uglier, they didn't hesitate to board the train. Leon stumbled inside with Sherry in his arms and he turned around to glance at the creature and spot it.

"Come on, get the train moving!" shouted William as he entered and closed the door as fast as he could. With an exclamation, he backed away from the door, catching glimpse of the claw mark that had literally sliced through the metal. After Leon left Sherry on the bench, he went inside the control room to start the train while Claire and Annette took care of the girl. Annette administered her the vaccine, and Sherry still didn't respond.

"Please, wake up, Sherry…" she said in a thin voice. There was silence, except for the hum of the train's engine as it moved, and Sherry moved, easing the tension. She peered up at Annette, and she suddenly came to a realization.

"Mom?" That was the word that made Annette smile, and she nodded, gesture that triggered Sherry's happy reaction. They quickly embraced each other kindly, but the moment didn't last long. Everyone looked up to the ceiling as the train jerked almost whole, and they stood completely still, hearing furious paw sounds all around.

His animal instinct hadn't left him yet, so it seemed. William sniffed the air once, and he instantly recognised the stench. It was a secondary mutation of the G-creature… the one that Sherry had thrown up, as he quickly found out. Suddenly, with an ear-piercing creak, the same blade-like tail that had attacked Leon broke through the ceiling, almost catching Claire's shoulder. She scrambled backwards, eyes wide open in shock, her chest rising and falling in a rush.

William quickly snatched the tail and used it to widen the whole, action which gave Annette a bad feeling, _really_ bad.

"Where are you going?" she asked above the noise. He didn't reply, and looked down. In less than a second, he felt Annette's warm touch on his wrist, and his eyes met hers again. They were full of fear and concern and William seemed to pray for the moment to last longer, but it wouldn't be possible. A kind smile flickered across his face, ever so weak, and Annette understood, letting go.

William quickly disappeared through the hole and Annette sank onto the seat, still holding Sherry. Sherry looked up at the hole, and couldn't help but smile too.

"He'll come back. He promised."

* * *

A/N: They're making it out, but things won't be good in the next chapter. Don't worry, both William's and Sherry's situations on this one will be explained further on. I hope you liked it!


	4. Chapter Four: Plans

**Author's Note:** Another update. Man, I couldn't update sooner, I'm sorry about that. Fortunately though, the story's coming out pretty well, and you're up for a surprise in the next one. Enjoy, and thank you so very much for reading and reviewing.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil or any of its characters. **

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4

Plans

William stood up, trying to keep his balance as the train dashed through the tunnel at high speed. His eyes quickly got used to the speed and, after catching glimpse of the horrible creature in front of him, he couldn't do anything but pull a face in disgust. It would be even bigger than a German shepherd if he compared it with one, with a round, disfigured face, pupil-less orange eyes and a mouth bigger than before. It was almost lipless, revealing its two rows of teeth, gleaming under the faint light. Its body was much sturdier and strong, the nails had grown and it was all muscle and gristle, no skin covering its body. It growled as it glared at him, its jaws almost drooling with something different than saliva… really different.

It smelled the human, but it wouldn't attack, something that made William wonder why. He was human again after all and its usual routine would be infecting everything in its way, but this time, it was staying put. There was an unusual gleam in the creature's eyes and William thought he could be going crazy, but there was some kind of message in them. _The same as you, you say I am, huh? No wonder he's looking at me so peacefully, which only means it'll be going for the others and so help me, it's not going to make it._

The creature attacked, much to his dismay. Zigzagging towards him, it leapt at his throat, a fresh wave of decay hitting William. He dodged almost by an inch; being human again was something you didn't get used to so easily. He hopped back on the balls of his feet, noticing it was the fastest movement that would get him away from it and, instinctively, he went to reach for his gun; he didn't have it though. _So I just have to stall it… Damn, when's this tunnel going to end?!_, he thought as he looked forward for a second.

The dog-like creature went for him again faster than he ever imagined and it managed to slash at his hair as William ducked, panicking. Why the heck had he gone to kill it? It was to protect his family mainly, but he could've at least stayed silent. _I'll never get to know myself…_, he cursed. With one quick movement, he stepped away, but the animal tackled him and knocked him against a small hatch, against which William bumped his head. Next thing he knew, the creature was jumping over him and William just saw his chance to make it out. Too bad he didn't see what came next.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Claire, the exit is up ahead!" said Leon in a chipper voice. His tone suddenly changed, "But there's a barricade blocking it!" Claire got into the control room and placed herself beside him, taking a look at damper between their exit and them.

"The brakes, Leon." He quickly complied, but there was nothing when he pushed the button. Desperate, he tried again, but the train just seemed to pick up even more speed. They looked at each other: a bumpy ride was coming.

There was a dull _ping_ against the glass and something stained it with blood, making it impossible to see up ahead. Things couldn't be going worse, could they?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

William grunted and groaned as blood flooded his mouth and he spit it, almost praying for strength to heal the gaping slash at his jugular. Shit, he'd bleed to death any second from then, but he still had the virus flowing through his system; there was something it'd do. There was a pool of blood forming next to him, which drove the creature completely crazy, and it attacked again in a frenzy. William didn't have the time to stand up; the wound was closing, but too slowly, and he had lost too much blood to react in time. As he watched it jump again, he held his breath, cursing his recklessness and knowing his heart would beat for just another short moment.

Again, he didn't see what was coming.

The creature seemed to forget the speed they were going at, because it failed to miss the joists that were supporting the ceiling. In nothing more than a second, it smashed into the joists with a loud whine in pain and a disgusting sound as its flesh smacked wetly against the metal. William could breathe again, as it seemed, and he turned his head around as he wiped the blood that had caked on his chin. Hope lightened his heart, but the barricade at the end of the tunnel was the clouds that covered the ray. Why hadn't they pulled the brakes, he didn't know; what he did know is that they were going to crash. The train wouldn't go above that metal obstacle, which meant derailing, and derailing in such a small space was something he would try to avoid if things weren't that bad.

He didn't notice as soon as he wanted to that they were amazingly close to it. As quickly as he could, he spun around to get to the side door, but he hadn't even completed the turn when everything happened too fast. His ears seemed to block, a dull boom reaching them. The front of the train collided against the small barricade, the cars crashing against each other, the back of the second wagon rising and getting stuck vertically. The first car –_Oh, no!_, as William thought dreadfully— had crashed against the barricade, but hadn't ended up as badly as the other; it had just jerked up and had landed with a big noise, a cloud of dust enveloping it.

As for William, he hadn't had the time to watch everything. The same moment they'd crashed, he'd been propelled forward with great force, had smacked against the floor and was rolling away, as the pebbles and rocks mercilessly maimed his flesh. As soon as he wanted to realize, he was close to bleeding to death. Yet something wouldn't allow it, and he knew very well what. William had to stay conscious, he told himself again, to control his mutation; he would surely change again if he didn't have control over his body. And he laid there as the virus did its work.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Everything was a total mess, but Claire was the first to snap out of it. Her head throbbed, so did her body, but they'd end up much worse if they didn't see the thirty seconds that were left until the whole tunnel was blown up. Everyone was conscious, yet hurt badly. Leon stood up, cursing his almighty headache, and his eyes couldn't take in what he saw.

**00:****23**

"Let's go, come on!" he urged stepping out of the control room, "We have to get out of here!" As they both crossed the door, they saw Annette trying to stand up and also the metal spike piercing her thigh, the wound bleeding profusely. Even he was surprised at her next action. Sherry apparently knew what she'd do, because she tightly closed her eyes, but didn't avoid listening to the wet sound as her mother removed it with a swift movement. It was big, but hadn't gone too deep. The spike fell with a clatter, and she quickly sprang to her feet, fighting against the dizzy feeling that assailed her.

Sherry was helping her to keep her balance, and Leon went to the woman's aid, quickly but carefully taking her out of the car. As fast as they could, Annette enduring the pain, they climbed up the small but high sidewalk and made it out of the tunnel, everyone thanking the feeling of sunlight.

**00:08**

As Annette limped as fast as she was able to, she twisted her ankle with a pebble. She fell, a wave of pain coursing her leg, and she exclaimed through gritted teeth.

"Come on…" Leon told her, helping her again to keep her balance. She was tired but they had to get away from the tunnel. Her only strength was the thought of being alive, of her family being alive, and the hope of a new life ahead of them. She somehow had felt imprisoned by strange restrains, but she felt free again. And she kept going, reminding herself of the strong person she was, and she kept going.

Time had run out.

The explosion came deep from the tunnel, a burst of flame and blackened debris erupting from the exit, the fire almost seeming to reach for them and burn them mercilessly. It soon became extinguished and it left a black cloud of smoke behind, the smell of destruction heavy in the air. The group had almost fallen, and they had watched the explosion in awe and relief, dread and fear, almost everything in a mix.

"We did it…" said Leon, his chest rising and falling slowly. He brushed some bangs out of his sweaty forehead and looked at Claire, whom he found smiling at him. It was a cheery situation, yet Annette somehow couldn't snap out of it. A feeling of nostalgia assailed her; why? Well, she'd left everything behind and now it was all gone, all she knew of her days with Umbrella. She thought about that… because she too felt a renewal of hope, as if another self had died in that explosion. Engrossed in her thoughts, she didn't notice Sherry's embrace much, but the little she felt was like a gift.

"Mom?" Sherry asked in a thin voice. Finally, Annette paid attention to her, knowing she was the most important person to pay attention to. But then, she looked around, another knot of dread forming in her throat. Sherry was right next to her, but there was somebody missing.

"William… where is he?" She could call herself paranoid, but she couldn't stand the thought of not seeing him for another second. Leon and Claire stayed silent for a second, second which made Annette almost fall into despair but, to her surprise and relief, she received a smile from Claire, and Annette felt his embrace, unreal but real at the same time.

"Right here…" he said in a thin voice. Annette relaxed in his arms, resting her head on the crook of his neck. Then, putting both hands on her upper arms, William looked at Claire, who was surprised. She wondered how his eyes could be twinkling faintly with kindness; it simply didn't make sense. Somehow, it was hard to understand but it was just like that, and it was also hard to understand why she didn't like it.

"Claire, you have our thanks." Annette said, but Claire was half-listening. _Our_ thanks? The situation still didn't make any sense; Claire still didn't know why.

"You don't have to thank me. Have in mind though that—"

"We should be careful from now on, yes," William finished as Sherry hugged him. He chuckled, "We don't need attention drawn to us anymore, so you can be at ease. We'll just… try again."

"It's good to hear that." Smiled Claire. Leon wasn't so sure about the whole thing. What about everything that had happened? They couldn't simply just walk away. _She'd better know what she's doing, because I don't trust them. We might've helped them to get out, and I wonder why I helped Claire. I think the pain's getting to me already._

Sherry looked up, "We're going home?"

"Unfortunately, just for a short while, but you don't have to worry," replied William, "The sooner we get there, the better though. Besides," he added, "We need to take care of your mother now. Claire?" he called. Claire's eyes were already fixed upon him; she'd been looking at him the whole time, "Thanks for taking care of her." She nodded with a faint smile and, as Leon could notice, both gestures were forced. Sherry stepped forward.

"Will we see you again, Claire?" Leon was still silent, uncomfortable and with his throat parched enough to avoid talking.

"I can't say. I have to find my brother, Sherry, but maybe we do, yeah." She replied. Annette wondered how that kind of situations could forge such bonds, but it had already happened to her. She saw Sherry's smile, which put her at ease. Finally, she was happy.

"I can't wait for that moment to come!" she heard Sherry exclaim. And next thing Annette knew, they were walking away, ready to face a new beginning, ready to start again. It was something she had wanted to do for a long time and it was a wish coming true.

Claire dropped the happy face. It had been striking to feel such tension, and she could tell it hadn't been normal. As she watched the Birkins walk away, everything made sense: the tension, the uneasiness, the feeling of being scrutinized for some sign of faltering. It was William; more concretely, his gaze. His eyes were the eyes of a human and the eyes of a monster, as different as they were equal; the gleam in them unnatural, and she thought 'unnatural' was an understatement. Something told her something was wrong, but right at the same time. Perhaps she was taking it too seriously.

Leon was starting to get worried. As soon as Claire's happy expression had faltered, he had frowned. Why the change all of a sudden? And horror dancing mirthfully in her blue gaze… that didn't add up. He finally spoke to bring her out of her inertia.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked. Claire was almost left without an answer, and the next words she said were almost uncontrollable.

"Trust me. It's alright." She said with a sigh.

"Wasn't that the impression they gave just a minute ago?" he shot back, showing all of his distrust. Forcefully again, Claire smiled.

"No. I know why."

"Alright…" he admitted hesitantly, "But you'll be held responsible for this."

Claire chuckled, "Yeah, I guess…" Her voice trailed away and they stayed silent for a moment, moment in which Claire sighed again. Her eyes met Leon's.

"You're going to look for Chris?"

"I have to," she said simply with a nod. It was Leon's turn to sigh. With his gaze fixed upon her, he suddenly came to realize how close they'd come to be and he would somehow miss her after they departed. Of course, Leon couldn't go with her; he had other things to take care of. What could he do now? Well, first things first: they had to leave the city and cross the borders and into safe land. Of course, if those were her intentions –which would surely be— he would accompany her. No special reasons behind it. _Oh, are you _that_ sure?_, his inner voice nagged.

Shrugging it off, he walked forward, "Well then, let's go. We don't have time to lose, do we?" Both locked gazes, and Claire felt their bond was strengthening. Where would that lead them? Claire had the feeling that, maybe, it could happen.

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She had seen him. She had seen him, and alive. That certainly wouldn't be good for the Agency, let alone _him._ Ada felt the pinch of curiosity, but her mind couldn't wander around those matters at that time. She had to keep moving, find medical equipment and heal herself. A drop of blood dripped from one of her raven locks onto her bruised leg and she had to lean against a damp wall, cursing her lack of breath at those instants. She couldn't avoid thinking about Annette, and Ada wasn't certainly a resentful person, but that bitch would pay, one way or another, if she wasn't dead yet. Ada wasn't a person that swore either, but her bad mood got the best of her.

In one of the rooms, she found a first aid kit and kindly thanked it. Quickly but carefully dressing her wounds, she thought about the meeting with that Umbrella worker. He'd told her about the place, Apple Inn, and she knew it wasn't very far away. She had received a map of the whole city and there wasn't a lot of distance to cover. Still, she had to hurry; only God knew what disgusting creatures lurked in the shadows.

She heard a dull ping and her head moved slightly. Snatching her gun from the table, she trained it on all directions but did not see anything, not a shadow flickering. She finished bandaging her arm and grasping the gun tightly, Ada left, walking into a pitch-black underground corridor.

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He was nervous, very nervous. It had been a while since he'd stepped into that brown-tiled living room or he'd seen the furniture that decorated, among a lot of other things. Memories came back in flashes, reminding him of his previous life, a life that he would throw away and forget. Of course, he'd still consider some of its mistakes, not to make them again. And he remembered something, the memory bringing a faint smile to his face.

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_From the kitchen, they both heard Sherry exclaim__ loudly._

"_I'll see what the missy's up to," __William smiled as he put down the knife. Crossing the small hall, he reached the door's threshold and caught Sherry unawares, "And what are you supposed to be doing?" _

_Instantly, the girl moved her head at him, her brow raised in surprise. She was hanging from the edge of her playpen, one leg still over the plastic bar, and she didn't move. There was a nervous gleam in her eyes and the way she silently stayed looking at him made William frown jokingly. But Sherry knew better: she dropped down to the floor, landed on her feet but fell onto her butt, crossed her arms and got into a forced huff, trying to imitate William's expression. _

"_You don'__t impress me, little girl," he said walking to her, "We've told you not to do that." Sherry didn't reply and slowly made her way up to the sofa, sitting against a cushion. This time, William arched an eyebrow. Next thing he knew, the girl stuck the tip of her tongue at him in a playful way, "How dare you? I'm gonna teach not to do that either!" he joked as he approached her and started tickling her. As she laughed out loud, Sherry tried to free herself but, unable, she kept laughing. And then, she was hanging upside down, William's arm snaking around her hip and holding her close. She released an 'Oooh' in surprise and felt herself moving to the kitchen, William carrying her. _

"_Annette, look what I caught here!" __he said stepping into her view. Annette turned her head around and smiled at the sight. Both with smiles on their faces; she couldn't ask for more._

"_Be careful." __She said. William turned her around and held her in his arms, but that peaceful moment didn't last for long. _

"_Ow! Hey!__ Wait!" Annette heard him exclaim. Next thing she saw was William's hair completely ruffled and Sherry hanging from his neck, "God, this girl's going to kill me someday," he said as he bent backwards pulling a funny face. Annette smiled and laughed, Sherry smiling goofily, and William sat the girl on his neck, both sharing a kind look. He smiled. _

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William couldn't believe it. One day he was with her five year old girl, and now she was twelve. Time had flied by, and there were so many things he'd missed… It was the time to start anew. That was his plan.

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A/N: I loved putting that little flashback in there. Seems like they're up for a new life, huh? As you can expect, things won't be easy from now on, not one bit xDDD

Please review, but no flames.


	5. Chapter Five: Intention

**Author's Note:** See? I told you I'd be updating sooner. Somebody's coming up in this one, maybe you're familiar with him *smirks*. Anyway, I'm glad you're enjoying this story, and I'll be updating soon again! Have fun reading!^^

**Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil or any of its characters.**

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5

Intention

_(October 1__st__, 1998)_

The door opened with a creak and Ada appeared at its other side. Gun in hand grasped tightly, she surveyed the room: a window with curtains at her right, a door at her left and, up ahead, the main wing of the room. Ada found that worker sitting ahead of her, his whole body covered with shadows, with just a faint light illuminating the desk in front of him. Ada stepped in, not finding any sign of danger, and she saw the puddle of blood under the chair and the whole in the man's temple. A gun was lying right under his limp arm: suicide.

"_He lost his will and chose death_," And that voice was deadly familiar. Ada halted and turned her head to a small computer on the desk, looking right into Wesker's image. Apparently, he was seeing her live. _Just great_, she thought annoyed, "_He was weak._"

"Wesker…" she uttered, her heart racing. She wasn't supposed to be afraid –not exactly afraid though— but she felt trepidation gnawing at her. Of all people she feared, although not wanting to admit it, Wesker was the one who got the prize.

"_And you, Ada, you have also failed,_" he continued. Angry or not, surely to be the former, his voice had an edge to it, clearly showing he wasn't pleased, "_Your actions in betraying us and helping that Leon fellow will have consequences for our organization_." Ada closed her eyes, feeling a pinch of—_What?_, Ada asked herself—at the sound of Wesker's mocking emphasis on Leon's name. _Don't remind me,_ she ordered mentally, actually wanting to tell him. It wasn't in her best interest though, and she opened her eyes, looking at him fiercely. Wesker was waiting for an answer with all the patience in the world, and he got it.

Ada put the sample in front of the monitor, "See this?" As she stepped back, Wesker turned his head to look at it, amused, "It's a tissue fragment with Birkin's G-virus." She snapped, finally wanting some recognition. Wesker leaned forward, a hand on his chin and shadows covering his face.

"_Well… despite some setbacks, you have proven your value to us._" By the tone of his voice, he was satisfied with her work. He leaned back again, speaking, "_Ada, there are two things you must be made aware of. One, in just moments, Raccoon City will be completely eradicated by a government launched missile._"

_What?_, Ada's mind exclaimed. She tried to hide her surprise, but she was in a difficult situation. She wouldn't make it out with those wounds and if she didn't have any transports around that could be used, it would confirm her statement. Wesker had an solution for that problem though, as she could find out.

"_And two, an Umbrella officer will be leaving town in a helicopter. If you are not on it, there will be no way to leave Raccoon City._" Then, he turned his head to his right and, after punching in a code, there was a beep, a click and Ada's grapple gun appeared in her sight, right out of the case next to the desk. She looked at him.

"_It is in our best interest that you make it out alive. The G-virus sample is required._" He said, putting an end to the conversation. Ada had no time to lose, and he certainly did want her alive. Yet Ada started another conversation, this time with a subject that did trouble him.

"Wesker, this is important." Ada told him. Seeing he didn't reply but waited interested for her to continue, she did, "Birkin is not dead." Wesker stiffened slowly and frowned slightly; if he was surprised, he was hiding it really well.

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He did hide his surprise as he looked at Ada but dealt with the situation. That was a serious problem for the organization. Well, for now, he could care about it but it would affect him greatly.

"Tell me when you get back. You're wasting time." Without anything else to be said, he cut the connection and Ada's image disappeared. Now this was something he called a setback, and that was an understatement. He leaned back, put a leg over the other and crossed his arms, thinking. Everything had been turned around, and he clenched his jaw in frustration. He had planned to take Sherry into custody if William and Annette didn't survive; he had supposed they wouldn't, and being wrong only infuriated him more. And he had planned to use her and recover more virus samples; again, he wouldn't be able to. Nothing frustrated him as intensely as losing.

A soft growl rose in his throat and he stood from his seat, pacing out of the room. Much to his dismay, he'd have to hear what Trent would say… and he had a very bad feeling.

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"Is everything ready?" William asked, turning his head around. Sherry nodded, hanging her bag around her shoulder and disappearing around the corner. In less than three seconds, both Sherry and Annette were in the living room again, ready to go.

"Yeah. Sherry, do you have everything?" Sherry nodded again and gripped the straps tighter, clearly showing her nervousness, but she felt at ease when she felt Annette's hand stroke her hair. Still, she lowered her head, her breathing speeding up. William neared her and locked eyes with her, his expression full of seriousness and kindness at the same time. From then on, Sherry felt with hope.

"I promise you everything will be fine. I just ask one thing."

Sherry looked surprised, "What is it?" William's resolve didn't falter, not one bit, and Annette smiled at his answer, her heart being lightened up with hope again. With one hand on Sherry's pale cheek, he spoke.

"Trust me."

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The grapple climbed up into the air, darting to catch the huge container the helicopter carried. When it dug itself into the metal, Ada felt relief, though it didn't last long as the Hunter behind her came closer, its instincts driving it just to get her. Her wounds were aching, almost threatening to bleed again; her legs screamed at her to stop, but she wouldn't listen to those signs: she had to continue. Ada pressed the trigger.

Instants later, she was ascending, getting away from that nightmarish place. She couldn't be certain of that, but when she was a few metres up in the air, she did feel true relief. Of course, the Hunter wouldn't let her go that easily; it leaped at her, jump that was futile. It just caught her shoe, snatching it away with its deadly claw. Ada felt herself safe as she looked back.

"You can have it," she remarked as she watched the Hunter crash against a rusted car. She kept going up until she landed on top of the container, even finding its cold metal surface as safe ground. And she found something interesting… very interesting. She couldn't help a smirk; if she relayed that information to Wesker, both he and Ada would benefit from the results it would spark. It would be one way or the other.

Something caught her attention and she looked to her right. There it was: Raccoon City's death, leaving a trail of white smoke behind it.

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They were silent, but not uncomfortably. Sherry was getting her rest, lying peacefully on the back seat of the car, and Annette was trying not to imitate her. She was tired, but she wouldn't close an eye until they were safe; it could be that paranoia was assailing her again, but she wanted to be sure they weren't in danger again. Umbrella surely knew of their survival, as she knew they had been and still were expendable assets for the company, and who could foresee what they could do to eliminate them. In spite of that, they were leaving the city, to start a new life as far from danger as possible; that was, unless danger came looking for them.

She looked at William, who turned the black hatchback to the right, and she turned her gaze away, unable to shrug off her uneasiness.

"Annie, don't give me that look." He said, glancing at her through the corner of his eyes for a short moment. Annette sighed, looking like more depressed, "I know you're worried, but try and calm down."

"You don't expect me to do that after all this," she shot back, trying not to sound very blunt, but she couldn't help talking with an annoyed edge in her voice. William smirked, not bothered by that, "How come you're this calm?"

He thought about an answer. Annette had a point: he was calmer than ever in his life, although he'd gone through complete hell in Raccoon City. Of course that Umbrella, if they came to know about their escape, would surely be after them but there was something that kept his paranoia from getting to him again; William knew what. But he couldn't reply, as Annette's exclamation cut him off.

"What the…?" she exclaimed as a bright light blinded them for a second. William pushed the brakes and the car skidded to a stop. They stayed still for a moment, regaining their calm and checking on Sherry. She was safe, completely awake and slightly scared. William got out of the car and stood by the open door, gazing around and catching a faint smell of smoke. Suddenly, behind a mountain, the sky was tinted red and columns of smoke climbed up to the sky, "William, what is it?"

"I can't say. But the sky there… it's Raccoon City!" he replied, realizing. Sudden wind started blowing, bringing them the bad news as it hit them.

"What?" Annette exclaimed, looking in the same direction as him. William was right: the red sky was above the city's location. Both shared a look, Annette's full of dread. It certainly couldn't be good.

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Wesker stood outside the meeting room, slight trepidation gnawing at him. He had already tried to shrug it off, but just thinking about having to talk to Trent got him in a bad mood; he hated having to share things with him. Still, it was just part of the big picture and he'd had to deal with it, either if he liked it or not.

Rising his gloved hand, he knocked twice, strongly enough for the sound to be loud, but no answer came from the inside. As his brow furrowed slightly, he turned the handle and went inside, warily stepping in. To his surprise, he found the room empty, but there were signs of a recent meeting in there, like the chairs turned around. Trent could be anywhere now that he thought about it, but the many times he'd looked for him, Wesker had found him there, bearing his usual smile as if nothing were going on.

He turned around, closing the door behind him, when he practically bumped into another worker, Ross Hampson. Above Ross' apology, Wesker spoke impassively.

"Where's Trent?"

Ross raised his eyebrows, "He just left a couple of hours ago, sir." He replied politely. And this caught Wesker by surprise, and it was one of the very few times something surprised him. Knowing Trent, he would be up to something, but risking his neck by going outside? That didn't add up, especially in somebody like him. Wesker felt his uneasiness grow.

"Where has he gone?"

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Light was scarce, a very small amount of it coming through the slits of the curtain. The room was almost empty, save for a table and two seats and a shelf; nothing else. Leon had taken one of those seats and was waiting for the supposedly government agent to come inside. He started drumming his finger on the table nervously, wondering what could be taking him so long. Through the slits of the curtain in front of him, he could make out Claire's ponytail; she was waiting for him outside the small office.

Leon smirked. They hadn't left each other since they had got to the small refuge of survivors, and he had come to enjoy her presence. It was the first person he could really talk to, and they had found a lot of things about each other overnight. He wondered where that could go…

Suddenly, the door opened with a dull creak. Leon's head jerked up, his grey gaze searching for the newcomer's; the first thing he always liked to make was eye contact. He didn't take things lightly and he was deadly serious this time. Whenever the government intervened, his distrust grew. The man would be in early forties, with dark hair and eyes shining with something else than mirth; still, Leon couldn't make it out. Clad in a black suit, the guy did seem from the government, but Leon still felt there was more to him that met the eye.

"Mr. Kennedy, I'm sorry for the delay. Have I made you wait too long?" he asked. His voice was bright, which only made Leon's distrust grow. After a short pause as he stood up, he spoke.

"No, not really." He replied. He didn't actually care too much about formalities; he wouldn't take it too lightly though. The man gave a half smile.

"Good," he said, and they both sat down again. Leon smiled inwardly: if there was something he was good at, that was reading body language, and he could sense the man was trying to gain his trust. _Damn, just look at the way he places his hands, wide open as a sign of sincerity. About keeping the name quiet, it's understandable. Maybe I'm paranoid now, but that's just a charade_, he told himself as his gaze met the man's dark one.

"We have received notice that Sherry Birkin has made it out of the disaster. Do you know where she is?" he asked politely, going straight to the point.

"Why do you want to know? She's safe now," Leon shot back bluntly. That guy was starting to get to him. The agent spoke frankly.

"We have our reasons, Mr. Kennedy, and I'm afraid that it doesn't concern you. Please, tell me where she is." Leon couldn't make out any signs of distress, but he wouldn't fall for it. The shadows made his face seem deadly.

"Leave Sherry alone," he said, his voice low and almost threatening. The man didn't seem to be bothered about that, but insisted, no signs of distress across his features. _Looks like we have to be careful with this one… but he might be useful. This is perfect; let's keep building it up._

"Mr. Kennedy, she knows too much."

"But you're not suggesting that a twelve year old girl could just suddenly turn into a bioterrorist, are you?"

The dark-haired chuckled, "Of course not." In that same instant, Leon felt things were going in another direction, and he didn't like it at all in spite of that. "I have a proposition for you, Mr. Kennedy: I can guarantee Sherry's safety and that she'll be looked after _if_ you agree to tell me where she is _and_ work with us. Two and two, an eye for an eye; it's your choice."

He did get Leon there, between his distrust and his caring nature, and he patiently waited for his answer, yet he knew he would agree. Leon was thinking about it while he mused, thinking about it very carefully. Of course, he cared about the little girl but he wasn't quite sure of the situation she was in, being with her family again. _'Trust me, Leon…'_. Claire's words echoed in his head for a second, and he made his choice, not without asking first.

"If I agreed to work with you, what kind of work would that be?"

"You'd receive special training and be assigned to protect the President's family. Who knows? Terrorism might affect them, and I can see you up for the job. What do you say?" replied the agent, locking his fingers upon the table. Leon knew he didn't have anything to lose: Claire would be going to look for Chris, Sherry would be safe… allegedly, and he'd find a job. He didn't trust the whole situation, but it was better than nothing.

Without regret or hesitation, Leon made his choice, and Trent smiled.

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A/N: Haha, Trent and his evil plans. You'll see what he's up to xD

Please review, but no flames.


	6. Chapter Six: She

**Author's Note:** Update time! I'm back, yeah, with another chapter of this one. It's kinda short, but I'm building up things and such... And just so you know, I might not update in a while... **maybe**, I say; I might find the time to write something, but I'm with finals and it's really time-consuming, so... yeah xDDD Enjoy this one anyways, it's a chapter I enjoyed writing. You'll see why^^

**Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil or any of its characters, only my OCs**

**Special thanks to all reviewers (**you rock, thank you so very much!**).**

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6

She

_(October 2__nd__, 1998)_

Knowing she had to face Wesker was, although usual, still unnerving; facing him _and_ Trent was something a whole lot worse. Ada had only seen him once or twice but, from the mixed opinions she'd received sometimes, she felt Trent was definitely not the type of guy you'd want to see. Ada would've liked to think of the situation as a normal boss and employee reunion with the bigwig, but things were very different in the Agency's world.

She took a left and politely said hello to a trio of researchers that were going in the opposite direction. Somehow, Ada felt a pinch of uneasiness; one of those researchers was Ross, and he reminded her of John, mostly because of his personality. It was immensely similar to John's. If it wasn't because of her affiliations, she would've been a normal person that missed her boyfriend… or maybe not so normal after all.

Erasing the thoughts from her mind, she came to stand in front of the meeting room, and she could make out Trent's chipper and lively voice from the inside, but not his words. Noticing a strange tinge in his voice, whatever he was discussing wasn't very pleasant as she could see. Ada took a deep breath and knocked twice, waiting for the answer to come: a muffled 'Yes' coming from Wesker.

"It's Ada," she said, following the protocol. She was allowed inside; she turned the handle and both men came into view. The room was empty except for them, which left Ada surprised. Trent was the first one to turn his attention to her, his smile becoming a half one; Wesker did so too, but more passively.

"Welcome, miss. I take it you're feeling fine now?" he asked, a creepy note in his words. Ada nodded, closing the door without a sound, and took her seat. Not having to wait for 'authorisation' was a relief; Trent treated her like almost an equal, so there wasn't a lot of 'distance' between them. In spite that, he liked to stress it.

"We were talking about the little information you gave me about Birkin. When was the last time you saw him?" Wesker started, locking his fingers. Right to the point, as always. Ada knew him, but not as much as she would want to, and she came to notice his stress, ever so faint. Under both of their gazes, Ada felt uncomfortable, but she remained collected… as always.

"It was before heading to Apple Inn, early hours of the morning. I last saw him powering up the train to make their escape, along with Sherry, Annette and… Claire; I think that's her name." Wesker raised an eyebrow, frustrated at the name and the man it reminded him of. Trent noticed but stayed silent as Ada added, "He was definitely human then, and it seemed like a definite state. He didn't seem like going to change again."

_The only thing that could explain his revert is__… Oh, I see: it could certainly mean something for when we work on it_, Trent thought. He then asked, "As far as I'm concerned, Sherry was impregnated, wasn't she?"

"Yeah. The embryos pupated though, but the girl survived." She replied, not taking her eyes off him.

_Hm, we can't get our hands on Sherry… for now, that is. __ She's with her family now; too bad that Mr. Kennedy lied to me, because I will see through that. I have to hand it to him though: he lies pretty nicely. We can't get her if Birkin is alive… This is going to be tricky. _

"…Very tricky," he said, his voice no more than a whisper, "We'll come up with something though." Wesker noticed it was the first time Trent looked somehow grim; strange for a man like him. And he wondered what could be going through his head. Then, they both shared a look, and Trent smirked. _Here he goes again,_ Wesker told himself. Trent's next words were a bad omen.

"Let's stir things up a bit, shall we?" Ada was fearing the worst.

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William felt better than ever after slipping into his black slacks and drying his hair after the hot shower. He stopped in front of the mirror and looked at his reflection, noticing how different he looked. Not only physically –he seemed a couple of years younger— but psychically. His personality had changed; he felt like reborn. Well, mostly because he had been, but it was also as if some things about him had been replaced. Blue eyes stared back at him, confirming his thoughts: he was a new man. _Well, I might be a new man, but that doesn't hide the fact that I need a haircut_, he told himself with a faint smile.

Entering the bedroom of their new house, William spotted Annette lying on the bed, probably asleep; her back was turned to him, so he couldn't tell very well. He smiled, watching her rest peacefully; finally, they had escaped tension for only God knew how long. She was a pretty sight, William thought. He was alone with her now, after such a long time… Grief attacked his heart: they'd been away from each other mostly because of him, and not physically, which was the root of the problem. It had been because of him, and only him.

Finally, Annette's face came into view, her tired eyes glancing at the ceiling. Then, she noticed him and smiled, and he smiled back, feeling warmth spread throughout his being. Gently, he sat down next to her and placed his hand on hers.

"How're you feeling?" he asked kindly. Annette shrugged and sighed, sitting up and making herself comfortable next to him. She wouldn't raise her eyes and look at him, something that worried him, "I can tell that something bothers you."

"It's nothing," Annette's sigh was heavier this time, "I just… try to convince myself of this; I can't seem to though. Even if you're here, touching me, I just…" Her voice trailed away, leaving William with a bitter taste in his mouth. His throat suddenly felt dry and he could only bear the guilt, unable to speak. He too looked away, but didn't withdraw his hand. They stayed silent for a few moments, which seemed like an eternity. Annette was about to speak when William did.

"When I… Remember when you left me dying?" he asked. Annette was hurt as she remembered, "Don't think I'm blaming you for that. I just… The only thought that came to my mind was-was protecting you, Annette. I acted on impulse, I didn't think and… it all led me to disaster." His voice tone made Annette uneasy, "Just imagining them going after you…" _'He wanted to scream in rage, to stand up and literally kill them, driven by an animal instinct he'd never felt before. Frustration, guilt, fear, anger, despair… Every single feeling he could think of assailed him, which led him to make his choice…'_

"I'm sorry… I really am." His words made Annette smile and laugh, a shaky, soft sound. It was a gesture that brought more sorrow to his heart.

"It's alright," she said rather nonchalantly, "I think I'm—"

"No, Annie," he quickly chimed in as he straightened, "You have all the right in the world to think like that, even… even hit me if it's necessary. Annette, my eyes are open now and I finally realise how much you've suffered because of me. I can tell you, I will make it up to you, to Sherry, and I'll atone for everything I've done." He took her by the shoulders, making her hold his gaze, and she did, firm and serene, "Will you ever forgive me?"

Annette could feel herself troubled. She could feel her overflowing love cloud her judgement and she certainly could and couldn't let it get to her. She asked herself: how could she be distrustful of his words, after so long? After so many times together? She couldn't keep the next question out of her mind either: had he really done what he had on purpose? Shutting his family out? She couldn't say at first; she'd never been inside his mind. Yet she knew she was a good man, and that he'd never wanted to do it. She knew the reasons of his actions, and she couldn't blame him for it. Annette finally gave in.

Without warning or hesitation, she wrapped her arms around his chest and held him tightly, clinging to him as if he were going to disappear any second, his body as warm as if he were real. William _was_ real after all, and Annette found strange she couldn't have distinguished reality from her imagination. And she felt him stroke her hair, a reminder of the old days.

"I wouldn't be able to bear with the grief of not forgiving you," she told him, her voice almost cracking. "I can't blame you, I simply can't." She was struggling to keep her composure, but then broke into tears again, crying silently, surprised at the tears she shed; she had thought there weren't anymore left.

"I guess that means a 'yes'," William whispered, and Annette smiled despite all, "I can't tell you how sorry I am. I won't deceive you again, I promise…" Although his voice had faded away, there was a note of resolve in it, which told her it would be an oath he wouldn't break. She was left with mild scepticism though, as that had happened too many times; still, she couldn't help trusting him again.

"I know you very well now, William," she replied as she separated, "And I know you didn't mean any harm. You should talk to Sherry now; she's still kind of upset…" William nodded sadly, thinking about his daughter, now sleeping in her new room. He then felt a cheering hand on his shoulder and received a smile from Annette, this time a kind and loving smile that too reminded him of the old days, days he'd try to bring back.

"Hey, you asked me why I was so calm about all this, right?" he reminded her, locking gazes.

"Oh, yeah; you didn't answer that one," she realized. William chuckled, lowering his head, and he then raised it again. Annette felt her heart race in her chest, expecting his answer and noticing his kind expression.

"Because I can finally do something for you, because I can finally make you happy and… this might sound odd, but I can tell you now how much I love you," Annette could see him blush slightly, "And I can show you, too."

His words surprised Annette, but he meant it; she knew that. Her smile widened, mirth dancing in her eyes, and the gap between them closed. And William kissed her passionately, showing all the love he'd concealed before, yearning to hold her even closer. He wasn't content with just the feel of her lips; he needed to touch her, and satisfying his urge, he laid a hand on her pale cheek as they separated, their breathing rushed. Their eyes met again, William's shining kindly, and it was Annette who started this time, her mouth against his, sweet and loving.

A soft chuckle rose in William's throat as she rested her hands on his neck, delighting in her touch. He broke away again, breathing between small pecks on her jaw, and Annette giggled, taking the next step. And William laughed at himself, enjoying the feeling of her body under his. They stopped, though William wanted more, a mild sense of lust tugging at his soul. Their foreheads remained touching, their eyes searching each other in loving glances. They smiled, wishing it was a long night. And William knew where to start.

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"I need to you to do this for me, Alex. You're the closest to Sherry, and let's not forget about Ethan. I doubt you want him to be harmed…" His voice, cold and cruel, felt almost like a torture to her ears, let alone hearing Ethan's name coming from him.

"I know, alright?" she replied bluntly, "Just tell me what I have to do." From the other side of the line, Wesker smirked. _ She's all ours._

"Just get her to ingest it. The means are up to you to choose; of course, the more discreetly, the better."

Alex scoffed, "You could say that. I'll contact you once I do it." And she abruptly hung up. She couldn't stand being manipulated, but she couldn't stand the thought of Ethan dead either.

Furious, she punched the wall deliberately and not, her knuckles hurting like hell.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Wesker closed the cell phone and tossed it to Trent, who caught it in midair with a serious expression. It was kind of eerie to see him in that mood, much to Albert's dismay, and knowing his intentions didn't help a bit.

"It's done," he said calmly. This time, Trent smiled as always, somehow dreamily, something very strange. Did he really have that much of a plan in mind? _Of course he has. He's got one hell of a mind…_, he thought. "What about Leon?" He asked then, knowing he was now a pawn of the Agency for Trent to control. And Trent, hands in his pockets, started pacing thoughtfully.

"I have some plans for him, just to stir things up as I said. Sherry will be all ours after all; we just have to wait until…" His voice trailed away, and Albert feared something big: for him not to finish his sentences, his plans had to be complex, wicked and that they ensure a success. He didn't insist.

"Well then, we'll wait till Alex does her work."

Trent's smile widened, "Excellent."

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A/N: Yes, things are getting bad. Do you think it was worth the wait? Do let me know, please^^


	7. Chapter Seven: Shadows

**Author's Note:** Alright! I could put down another chapter... but this one was difficult as hell, I swear. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, because it is long. You're in for something! xDDD

**Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil or any of its characters, only my OCs.**

**Special thanks to all reviewers.**

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7

Shadows

_October 19__th__, 1998_

Another day in Stretton Middle School, Sherry thought. She sighed, hurrying up to the gate and joining the groups of student making their way to the front yard. She was already used to seeing the same faces she saw every morning, but it still reminded her of her classmates in Raccoon City. It was all in the past now and, as much as she wanted to forget, it would still remain. Shrugging off those thoughts, she smiled at a certain person that was waiting for her next to the gate, who smiled in return. The boy next to her stayed reading without noticing her until Sherry waved a hand in front of him.

"Earth to Ethan?" she teased him with a giggle. Ethan got into a huff, and the older girl stroked his hair kindly.

"I see that's your way of saying 'good morning'," he replied, hands on his hips. Sherry raised her brow, confused at his reaction, and the change in her demeanour was instant and not unnoticed. Ethan started laughing, "You fell for it! I can't believe you!"

"We like teasing ourselves, don't we?"

"Looks like it," said Alex in a soft voice, "Come on, let's get inside."

The three headed inside, along with the flowing current of students, Alex actively participating in Ethan and Sherry's conversation. The brown-haired boy, of about thirteen years of age, really liked talking about everything concerning electronics and shared with the girl all of his knowledge on gadgets and that kind of things. Sherry always listened enthusiastically, intervening and asking questions now and then, and that time wasn't an exception.

"Now that's cool!" Alex heard her exclaim, and she smiled at her kindly. Sherry was, like her brother had said, their best friend… and that's what made her think about her deal.

"Hey, we'll be going now, alright Alex?" Ethan said, tugging playfully at her hair. Alex nodded and, as she watched them head off, she was stuck in place, watching them with a sad gleam in her eyes. Ethan and Sherry got along well, and the fact that made her angst-ridden was having to hurt _her_. Even now, she could feel somebody watching her from somewhere; she would have to be careful.

Alex lost sight of the pair between the crowd of students that went by and she headed to the stairs, climbing them up and appearing in the second floor, almost empty. At a brisk pace, she entered her classroom and closed the door behind it, leaning against it with a heavy audible sigh. To her relief, it was empty too, but not for long as she assumed.

It'd be a long day… and a terrible one, too.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Annette quickly entered the bedroom after hearing a frustrated exclamation from William, whom she found lying on the bed with both hands on his face, a small notebook beside him.

"If I told you there was nothing wrong, I'd be lying, hon. Damn, it's complicated…" he said as he finally stood up despondently. He didn't meet her gaze as she stepped in further, obvious concern in her features. "Remember the tests I carried out with Sherry?"

"A week ago, wasn't it?"

William nodded, "Yes. I'm just seeing the results here again and it looks like last time I failed to notice something. The virus within her is dormant, which is the bright side, but…" He paced away from her, ducking his head. Annette waited silently for his answer, a knot of dread in her throat, "But certain stimuli can rev up the virus' amplification time, for example rage or fear, which would make it start spreading again. It'd be just like triggering a bomb: the virus would act as the body's defence against all types of stimuli, both inner and outer; it would almost replace the immunological system. And that's what I'm afraid of."

Annette had put two and two together since he'd started talking again, "We're talking about mutations. Oh, God… And the vaccine would only suppress its effects."

"It wouldn't neutralize it completely, no. Annette, can you use the lab under the pharmacy you work in? It would help to produce the vaccine at a fast rate."

"I might, though I'll have to work something out. I wouldn't like them to believe I'm there to sabotage their store." She replied with a faint smile. William managed one too, but he was too worried to let his mind wander. _If I had just noticed this before…_

"Oh, this reminds me that my shift today's from eleven to two in the afternoon…" She added, looking at her watch, "Mm… yeah, I guess I'll have time. Will I be able to catch up with you for lunch?" she asked him.

"What time is it?" he asked in response.

"Ten o'clock."

"I guess. You'll have to wait for me fifteen minutes though, I can't sneak out." He said, glancing at her apologetically. Annette smiled and nodded. "Let's go then; I'd hate to be late my first day."

As they went different ways and entering different rooms, since the flat wasn't very big or small, they could talk loud enough for the other to hear. Like that, the tension would ease and they'd feel better; it was like talking to oneself but with somebody listening. Somehow strange, but that's how they sometimes worked, not to mention most of the times.

Since they had settled down in Stretton, Florida, they had been living the normal life they'd always wanted. It seemed like the old days, but the actual were very different too. They had started working in a pharmacy, William going over his virology studies again as if in university, and Sherry had started school as a normal girl, just a few days after their return. She had told them she'd befriended quite a pair of students, and they were her best friends now. _Just like normal students, huh?_, William had thought about that. Normal was the word that sounded so well but so… odd for them; they'd never been normal people in the first place… not until then, as they liked to think. For the first time, they hadn't encountered any problems in two weeks… that had been a record.

Once they were both ready, they both packed and walked out of the living room together, William following behind Annette. It was so different now… The more different, the better; it wouldn't remind them so much of the past. As they went down the stairs, a thought popped up in his head, and even he was surprised at the thought and the time it had come up at. _Speaking of the past… What about Wesker? Can't help not to have him in mind now; wonder where he is..._

They appeared in the busy streets a few seconds later, walking down the main street along with the current of people. Finding themselves with a little space on that ambient still wasn't something they'd grown used to, but they would with time.

Instantly, William's head tilted to one side, having a bad feeling. His mind told him something was wrong, that there was danger near… but where? Right or left? Front or…_ behind?_, he asked himself, scanning the crowd behind him through the corner of his eye. Whatever it was, it didn't seem to be there. _You know better: appearances tend to deceive…_ Instinctively, he walked closer to Annette, whose expression changed in the nick of time after catching sight of his.

"Do you know another direction to take?" he asked her, his voice low.

"Yeah, just a—" Just after Annette had talked, William felt unusual movement behind them. _And unusual is an understatement, enough said_, he thought as his frown deepened.

"Keep it to yourself. Somehow, I have a bad feeling. Take that direction and get to the pharmacy as soon as you can. I don't like this, not one bit." Annette nodded and they kept walking together, until she took a right and left William's side. While he reduced his speed, Annette increased hers, going through the alley as fast as her small heels allowed her to go. Her right hand went instinctively to the left side of her jacket, making sure her small side arm was there. In extreme cases, she'd come to use it.

William had stayed behind, uneasiness irking him, watching from a shop's front steps. He tried to appear casual, just somebody waiting for someone else, but he'd never been good at hiding his emotions. There was something good of that uneasiness: it was keeping him alert like a watchdog, his five senses keener than ever. His eyes were scanning the buildings on the other side of the street, they were searching for more movement in the crowd… until he caught glimpse of something he feared: somebody else taking Annette's direction. Jumping the three at a time, he made his way through the people, feeling a strong pain in his chest. He tried to ignore it, but it grew stronger as he entered the alley and followed it down. It was more intense by the second and he put two and two together as soon as his body convulsed slightly, making as if to vomit. He remembered his own words.

"_S__timuli can rev up the virus' amplification time, for example rage or fear, which would make it start spreading again. It'd be just like triggering a bomb."… "And that's what I'm afraid of."…_

_Great, now it's also affecting me. I should've thought about that…_

He had to calm down or else, but the adrenaline coursing through his veins was more than enough to keep him from calming down. William turned left, fear adding itself to his anger. He found Annette aiming her side arm at a stranger, her back against the wall and standing firmly. William's head throbbed as he got closer.

"Don't touch her!" he exclaimed, drawing both Annette's and the man's attention to him. He didn't seem to be fazed at his words and looked at Annette again, then at William.

"I have a message from him?" he said, making him stop in his tracks. Confused, William dared to speak.

"A message? And whose message is that?"

"I just came to deliver it, nothing more. 'She's in danger', that's what he ordered me to tell you." He replied as he stepped away from Annette, who didn't withdraw the gun. She didn't feel safe like that though, but she felt there was no danger now, that he wouldn't harm them. With nothing more to say, the man turned on his heels and calmly walked to the end of the alley, getting out of sight. Annette's gaze had followed him all along, and her agitated breathing made her seem as if she had just run the hundred metres.

"Annette, are you all right?" William asked her, a hand on her shoulder. Breathing normally again, she nodded, tucking her gun in her side holster again. Annette looked up, finding him paler than before, and he noticed the question in her eyes, "I'm okay. It's happening to me too, what I told you about Sherry…"

Annette gasped, "What if she was the one he meant? Sherry's the only 'she' we know!" she exclaimed, the hypothesis sounding strangely correct.

"We can't say for sure now," he told her, trying to ease her, "Should she be the one in peril, whoever touches her will pay."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He could have suffered because of the setbacks in the past, but his own scheme was already into motion, almost at the same time as Trent's. His distrust towards him had led him to take matters into his own hands, being as careful as always of course. Wesker could hate losing, but when he saw an opening, even the tiniest flaw, he could take a _big_ advantage of it, as much as he was able to.

This time, something different drove him. He knew what, but wouldn't admit it; still, it was something he needed to do. _'I owe you one this time, I'm afraid…'_ Those had been his own words, more than ten years ago, and he hadn't forgotten them. If there was a feature in him that was likeable and loathsome at the same time, that feature was being a man of his word. It would cost him to keep it now, but if he played his cards correctly, he'd make it out with all the spoils and no problems in his way. Playing the cards correctly… therein lay the problem.

The only thing he needed to take care of now was getting Leon out of the way. Trent would use him as a good pawn, but in Wesker's opinion, he'd be nothing more than a nuisance. He was proving himself to be one, indeed, a nuisance that needed to disappear, at least for a while.

There was an inconvenience again. Trent had let them now of Leon's lie, and nobody else but him knew of his own plans. Whatever Trent was planning to do to him, it wouldn't be good. Knowing him, he wouldn't send Leon to his own death; he was still valuable and he could prove efficient with the training he was undergoing.

Suddenly, it clicked.

There was another scheme going in Wesker's head, and the cards were being shuffled again, ready to be played.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sherry was approached by Ethan, who was in a playful huff. The boy rolled his eyes when she raised her head, her hand stopping the pencil as she gave one last stroke, and she frowned.

"What's with that look?" she snapped, looking down again.

"Why can't you be with everybody instead of drawing? I mean, don't tag yourself as the loner already!" he told her, sitting next to her and motioning at the others with his hands. Sherry lifted her head again, saw a group of girls of her same class laughing stupidly, and she sighed in frustration. Ethan noticed where she had looked and smirked, getting his answer. "Forget I said anything."

"No, it's okay. Thankfully, you noticed them in their idiotic moment. I can't stand people like that; besides, drawing helps me clear my head when I'm nervous." She replied kindly.

"Still nervous?"

"Don't you remember we have a maths test on Wednesday? To tell you the truth, maths has never been my forte."

Ethan chuckled sarcastically, "Yeah, you could clearly see with that A you got the other day. I fear that you'll fail, little girl." Sherry elbowed him.

"Alright, no need for the sarcasm. Last week was different," she replied. Then, she gasped and narrowed her eyes at him, "And did I just hear little girl? Listen, I might be a year younger than you, but that doesn't make me a kid. You guys are always the same!" This time, Ethan laughed wholeheartedly. He enjoyed irking Sherry, but he didn't mind her remarks. Although sometimes a bother himself, he was a nonchalant youngster, not easily angered. He watched Sherry resume her drawing, her earlier frown vanishing from her face.

"Mind if I have a look?" he asked. The girl shook her head and showed him the drawing, which left him astounded. Sherry had drawn the swing a few metres away from them, along with the two girls swinging on it. Ethan noticed their faces were absent, but all other details were present: shadows, folds in their clothes, even the different directions their hair had gone when playing.

"Now that's cool. Why don't you draw the faces?"

"I don't like to," she replied simply, "I might just leave the space blank, or I sometimes draw my own faces. To be honest, I hate drawing them; that's why I always pick landscapes or people from the back as models to draw. I just picked this one because it brings back memories." By the change in Sherry's voice tone, Ethan knew it was better not to ask. He looked at his wristwatch and sprang to his feet.

"We'd better get going. It's Science now."

Sherry laughed as she picked up her things, "Yeah and you know how Miss Wells gets when somebody's late." Once ready, they walked alongside each other to the main door. Both frowned when they saw a group of older students posted on both sides of the door; they wouldn't go inside easily, not by a long shot. In spite of that, they didn't back away, though Sherry noticed how Ethan walked a few steps ahead of her, and she couldn't help an inner mind. _Always like a gentleman,_ her mind teased.

"Yo, where y'going?" asked one of them. Ethan already knew the drill: the first to talk was the head of the gang. He and Sherry slowed down, Ethan locking eyes with her.

"Can you please let us through?" he retorted, a steely edge in his voice. The older girl smirked, and stepped aside, much to her companion's surprise. The one at the far corner knew better and, as Sherry and Ethan started walking inside, he quickly got behind her and ever so slightly lifted her skirt, making Sherry go stiff at the moment. Even if it was just mildly, she wouldn't allow that.

"I told you not to do that," another of the gang spoke, his voice painfully mocking. Sherry didn't hesitate: she quickly flung her open hand to his face, but missed. That didn't make her stop, as she jumped in the air and landed with both feet on the harasser's right one, leading him to exclaim in pain.

"Take that!" she said at the top of her voice. Ethan had turned around the same moment he'd noticed Sherry's reaction, but hadn't intervened because of the older girl restraining him. He was shocked at Sherry's strength and hadn't thought of her as an aggressive person; appearances had deceived him as it seemed. In less than a second, he was released and Sherry strode away from the door, her head ducked and shoulders convulsing into a cry.

"What's happened, Ethan?" Another surprise for him: Alex, his sister, was right there behind him. It was something he didn't like, and just shook his head, triggering a frustrated reaction from Alex. He started to run after her; Alex imitated him, but not before glancing at Mandy, the girl who restrained Ethan. Mandy could see they'd done well.

Ethan found Sherry in their class, entering just when she was drying her tears. He could notice she hadn't cried much, leading him to believe she was a _very_ strong girl. He slowly approached her, a sad frown appearing on his face.

"Sherry, did he do something else to you?" he asked, kneeling in front of her table. Her arms were crossed in front of her and her head resting on the small gap. There was a trail of a tear on her nose and, although her eyes were still wet, she was shedding no more.

"No," she said with a sniff, "I didn't give him the time… I wish I was older though, I would've beaten him to a pulp." Ethan chuckled at her words and watched her straighten and dry her face completely, "It's nothing of importance… Nothing, I say."

"If you say so," Alex's voice reached their ears, and they both saw her at the threshold, bearing a small smile. Sherry nodded at her, her lips forming another smile—

—smile which was instantly erased at the feeling of pain. Sherry groaned, hugging her belly as the pain gradually increased. Both Alex and Ethan gasped in alarm as Alex touched Sherry's forehead: she was burning up. As if somebody had whispered in her ear, she remembered the small vial in her pocket, containing whatever it did. She knew Sherry would have to take it, and she took it out of there.

"Sherry, you have to take this." She said calmly. She received a bewildered look from Ethan, his eyes gleaming with concern.

"What's that?" he asked.

"An antibiotic, Ethan, just in case." She replied. It was the sentence that made her want to hate herself, to scream and cry in rage. Alex felt tears stinging at her eyes, but she held them back. _God, I'm just a coward. Forgive me, Sherry…_

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Trent skimmed through the stack of papers, trying to find the important one. Reports on the G-virus; some things he knew about it, and he was looking for the most recent results. The investigations were going well, at a slow but sure pace, and there hadn't been any mistakes or setbacks yet. He finally found the page he was looking for and he leaned back in his seat to read it thoroughly. It surprised him how complex yet troublesome it was; still, it was astoundingly fast and powerful.

_Oh, now I see. How he reverted is easy: if the G-virus is set to revitalize dead cells,__ harming himself and managing to stop the mutation at the same time must have been his "method", thus leading to reconstruct his body and giving it its human form again. Though by what Ada told me, the monster was completely taking over at that juncture... A matter of will, and an iron will I must say…_

Trent stood up and just as he did, the phone in his pocket buzzed, vibrating. Instantly, excitement ran through him as he saw who was calling: Alex. When he picked up, there was nothing at first, then Alex's shaky voice was heard.

"_It's done… She's-she's taken it,_" she told him. Trent smiled.

"I knew you could be trusted. Do not worry now, Ethan is safe. I guarantee it, and I'm a man of my word." He told her, "I have to thank you, miss Rivera." Before he could add something else, the line was cut. Trent didn't mind and he turned around to leave the room.

They were set to go.

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A/N: Haha, there are a lot of things going on. And yes, I love leaving you with cliffhangers, but anyway. I'll try to get the next chapter next week, maybe Wednesday. I'm with finals on Monday and Tuesday. See ya around!^^


	8. Chapter Eight: Strike

**Author's Note:** Another chapter up. Man, it's getting very complicated to put them down, mostly because the whole thing that's going on. You can't imagine what lies ahead, mwahahahaaa xDDDD Something concerning the preview I left in the last chapter: it has been modified, but it hasn't lost its tinge of peril. Something else: save for the direction in this chapter (8th Ave with 8th Street), all other locations are fictional. Enjoy!^^

**Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil or any of its characters.**

**Special thanks to all reviewers.**

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8

Strike

Claire looked ahead, a faint smile appearing in her face, a smile that belied her true feelings. The sun was setting, and the sunlight that bathed the small city reminded her of the days she used to climb up the stairs to the balcony just to watch the magnificent sight… along with Chris. At that moment, she could've even sworn that she'd felt his hands upon her shoulders; her wistfulness was getting the best of her. But she was going to look for him… and she knew where to start, fortunately: after finding his diary, she knew where he was… Europe, or somewhere around there.

Chris hadn't told her anything about the mansion incident, but now she could relate it to Umbrella. At first, she'd just only seen it in the papers: 'The S.T.A.R.S. fiasco' as it was written in the headlines, and it all talked about the unit's incompetence. Claire scowled absentmindedly at the thought. She'd read about what the members had said about what they'd seen there, and she'd just wanted to laugh and kick the writer's ass at his comment suggesting they'd been on drugs. After seeing what she had in the city, she was completely convinced that both events were Umbrella's doing and Chris' written words had confirmed her thoughts.

Her recent search for information had led her to learn the location of another Umbrella facility, again in Europe. She was sure that Chris would be there; even if he wasn't, she had to find out. The grudge Chris held against Umbrella was a very big deal; well, whose wasn't? Everyone who knew about them, about the disasters they'd caused would like them to go to hell… everyone who knew about them _and_ wasn't with the company, of course. Chris was following a dangerous path: he sought their disappearance, even annihilation. And when Chris got obsessed with something, he wouldn't stop until he saw the situation through.

Pulling the brake handle on her Harley, Claire stopped and parked it next to another three motorcycles, right in front of a small café. After taking off her helmet, she redid her ponytail, grabbed her bag and entered inside, holding the helmet tightly. It was her most treasured one of all her full-face ones, of a lustrous black that matched her jacket. Once she got inside, she calmly had a decaf latte with a small tinge of cinnamon; not as good as the one she usually had at university but it was all right. The place wasn't crowded or empty, just a few people at the bar and three occupied tables.

The radio beside her emitted the typical tune of a news radio station and after a short burst of static, a clear male voice spoke, relating unnerving facts to the whole establishment. Everybody fell silent and listened carefully, showing the same concern that Claire's eyes harboured.

"_Breaking news: several police officers, accompanied by a group of witnesses, have found a completely burned car next to a traffic light in 8__th__ Avenue with 8__th__ Street, along with numerous trails of blood. After investigating the scene, no bodies were found. As confirmed by one of the witnesses, a body was seen being carried away and it hasn't been seen since then. It all happened twenty minutes ago, at six-thirty pm local time." _

_8__th__ Avenue with 8__th__ Street... I have to go through there now; I guess I'll be able to take a look if the street's alright_, Claire told herself as she finished her drink and paid. Getting everything again, she left and stood next to her bike, unable to shrug an odd feeling. Unless the victim was still alive and had left, obviously to the hospital, or he or she had been carried there, nothing else made sense. The police would've found remains of the burnt body there if the victim had died, and those trails of blood… Claire's thoughts raced and she reached a conclusion: there was something going on.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Twenty minutes earlier…_

Everything had happened fast, too fast. One moment he was driving and ready to turn, the other he was spinning around the same instant a car crashed against his, sending him flying and turning the car over. David had felt everything smashing against his body, torturing him restlessly, until the car had skidded to a stop, sparks flying around as the roof slid on the asphalt. One last bump and all he felt was pain, blood flooding his mouth. He spat it, instinctively breathing heavily to gain air again; the pain was so strong he came to ignore it. After a minute, he calmed down and his whole body went limp, arms dropping above his head and lids feeling heavy.

_You're never careful enough._

That's the first thing that had come to David's mind after finding himself sitting upside down, the glass bits under him scratching his limp hands. The only thing he could do was think, the pain too stunning for him to move; besides, one false move could make him end up dead. It was difficult for him to breathe, also painful, and he felt his chest ever so slowly. Much to his dismay, he had had to crack a rib, maybe two. His vision blurred, something urging him to fall unconscious and forget, but he stayed awake, his hand sliding up to the side of the seat while the other touched the ground, brushing away some small bits. David tried unbuckling himself, ready to land on his hand, but he somehow already knew it wouldn't make any sense. His mind instantly reminded him of the knife in his boot and slowly, he brought up his leg as much as he could, fortunately enough for him to reach and get it.

Pain shot up through his left leg and went all the way up to his shoulder, the one working on cutting his restraints. David hissed but kept going, an almighty headache leading him only to think on how to make it out of there. Finally, the belt snapped and he supported himself on both of his hands, carefully sliding down to his back. He saw the source of the pain: the gearshift lever had dug into his tibia, which only led him to think it was broken. It wasn't until he took his hand to his forehead that he noticed several cuts above his right brow and temple, and both the side of his face and cheekbone too presented cuts, all of them bleeding profusely.

Suddenly, David heard voices outside and steps approaching; he presumed it'd be civilians. He too heard what it seemed like his death sentence if he didn't get out of the car.

"It's leaking gasoline! Get him out of there, quick!" It was a male voice and David could've sworn fear or concern weren't present in his words, only authority. He couldn't complain: he was thrashed, bleeding, unable to move and having the feeling he'd burn to death; at least somebody would lend him a hand. Still, it somehow nagged him: he could get out of those situations alone. He summed it up: his pride was also hurt. David twisted his body around, his upper half resting on his belly, and he did his best to avoid turning his cuts into gashes. With so much broken glass around, it would be difficult.

His hand reached out to touch safe ground, avoiding the razor-sharp shards still sticking out of the frame, and he pulled himself out of the vehicle. His knees smashed against the glass bits on the ground and, although slightly, David felt some digging into his flesh. _Bloody hell… come on! On your feet!_, his mind urged him, fighting against the pain. Cold fingers encircled his hands and several people helped him out. They laid him on his back, taking him away from the car, and David's vision focused again… only to make him wish he was healthy to run away. Right that instant, despair was triggered but he couldn't resist; he wouldn't stand a chance against them with all those wounds.

And the last thing he saw was the car burning, flames engulfing and licking its metal frame, as he was carried away by his enemy.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Umbrella was on the move, as Trent could clearly see. They had already struck twice, and in almost perfect sync. He wouldn't rattle under tension, but it was most unnerving. He knew the company very well and through the course of the years, he'd come to see how they played their cards, though those moves didn't make a lot of sense. Yes, it had been two weeks since the disaster in Raccoon; they wouldn't have suffered its repercussions yet. Nonetheless, they should know better than go on an attacking spree after how deeply they were affected by the city's eradication.

_If they were smart, they'__d settle down for a while and scheme again, plan their comeback. Should the government find out about the company's involvement in the outbreak, I know they'd try to redirect the blame, shift it to bigger organizations, but that's not the case. It won't be easy for them, yet you never know. Their pockets are deep and they have strong ties; who knows what kind of trick will they play on everybody?_

What had bothered him the most was the fact that it had been David Trapp who'd been a victim of one of those commotions. It was in his best interest that he remained alive, especially after his actions in the cove, which had proven quite beneficial for the whole organization. And there was also a second problem, which was certainly proving irritating. By some methods, the G-virus had ended up in the hands of a group of Umbrella mercenaries who were allied with a guerrilla group in South America, and they would surely plan on infecting half of the population in the city. With that, hell and death were guaranteed as soon as they acted. The means they had acquired it through matter not; they had to be stopped immediately.

Trent wouldn't take matters into his own hands and investigate; the least people knew about him, the better. Besides, he had his own pawns to move, just like chess. Also, it was time to take care of Sherry, and Wesker would handle that. He knew the family better than anybody; nobody else would do better than him. That evening, it'd be the moment to take her.

And Leon… it was time for his first mission.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Leon bit his lip and locked gazes with his sparring partner, Ashton, who had him pinned down in an armlock with relative easiness. Ashton had already told him he was becoming more difficult to bring down as he progressively improved; of course, he wasn't good enough yet. Leon's head slumped back and touched the floor as he released a heavy sigh.

"What's with that face, Scotty-boy?" Ashton asked, almost mockingly. He was a good guy, but when he got arrogant, he sometimes went too far. That nickname was getting under Leon's skin, but he had to swallow back his complaints and cope with it.

"It's nothing," Leon snapped back. As impatient as he sometimes was, he had been waiting for two minutes for Ashton to let him stand again. Two minutes would seem a short time, but with Ashton gradually pressing harder, it was hard not to think it was an eternity. One of the lessons that Leon had had in mind every day in every training lesson with him was_ 'Don't ever ask me to let you up. If I do, that's the sign of your enemy's negligence to do it; if I don't let you up, it's the same thing'_. As such, Leon had never asked again, until finally his partner released him and they both stood up.

Instantly after that, Ashton sent a punch to Leon's face, which he blocked with easiness and hopped back, his arms raised in a defensive position. A high roundhouse came from Ashton, and he ducked in time to perform a low kick and catch him unawares. Leon was about to attack again, but his partner stopped him by raising a hand and smirked.

"Don't try selling me those lies. But anyway, if that's what you say, I won't insist…" he said, hands on his hips. Leon dropped his stance and sighed heavily, enjoying the scant minutes of rest until a harsh voice came from the door. As it called their names, both Leon and Ashton whirled around, finding their superior standing at the threshold, arms folded across his chest.

"We got something, and it's big. Briefing's in seven minutes," With that said, he disappeared from their sights. The partners shared a glance, Leon's worried and Ashton's full of glee; finally a mission after months. Leon came to wonder if he was ever worried about anything.

Ashton was the first person he'd met since the training had started; he'd been assigned to train Leon as best as he could. He had been surprised to find that the man was very young and had been working for the government since an astounding young age; that, Leon did not know. Besides, as blunt and fierce Ashton was, he'd decided to keep some questions to himself, no matter how curious he was. The only thing he assumed to know about Ashton was that he'd had an horrible relationship with his father and, when he'd told the group he trained about a successful mission in which his previous group had rescued a couple of beaten kids, captured by gangs, the sorrowful glint in his bright hazel eyes had betrayed his thoughts. Ashton, Leon had thought, was an intriguing person. He'd try to win him over.

After showering and slipping into clean clothes, Ashton led Leon to the meeting room, where the units were usually informed of the situations. Once they entered, as if instructed to do so, all eyes went from Jackson, the leader of the unit, to Ashton and then to Leon, who immediately started feeling uncomfortable under their scrutinizing gazes. Still, he didn't rattle under the tension and took a seat along Ashton when told. _As if you were alone, Leon_, he told himself, sharing a glance with Jackson.

"Well, now that we're all here, let's start. The situation's this: a group of Umbrella mercenaries have acquired a virus sample; as directly relayed by our intel department, it's been the G-virus." Jackson started. The mood in the room grew heavier with tension and Leon had to refrain from cursing out loud. Things were worse than everyone thought. "How they've gotten it still remains unknown; what we and all of you _do_ know however is that we can't let them take action. They're planning on infecting half of the population, even create a second and worst Raccoon City.

"Several people of ours have been keeping watch over a certain individual, who is responsible of this whole mess; we're certain of that. He's a former U.B.C.S. member and a survivor of the city disaster, ex-Corporal Carlos Oliveira. He's joined with a guerrilla group around there and he's the one scheming." Jackson received an amused whistle coming from Hugh, the one in charge of rear security.

"Would you look at him… Although appearances tend to deceive big time, he somehow looks like he wouldn't hurt a fly." He commented, surprisingly without cracking a smile.

"Well, the kid's been with a gun since he learned to walk," Jackson shot back with mild humour. "And to top it off, he's crazy enough to do this."

"When do we go hunting?" asked Ashton, earning a smirk from Alan. Leon hadn't opened his mouth, and he certainly wouldn't protest at Ashton's question; he could be good, but his tone hinted at his recklessness.

"They haven't said anything about a strike yet, but we'll deploy around Plaza Azul, Argentina. It's a small province near La Plata, with enough population to strike and release the virus: 200,000 people."

"And with how rapidly the virus spreads, the infection will be unstoppable in less than a day," Leon intervened instinctively. It mattered not if he felt uneasy; they had to know about everything he'd learned. "The infected victims would seek to reproduce themselves restlessly in order to keep a living host. It's just instinct."

"And how do you know so much about the virus?" asked Alan, not unkindly. As soft-spoken as he was, politeness could be always sensed in his words. Leon sighed, noticing nobody had told them where they'd picked him from.

"I'm one of the survivors of the city and I've seen the virus act in horrible ways," he said simply. Nonetheless, it left a bitter taste in his mouth when everyone's demeanour changed. Alan frowned, taking a hand to his chin thoughtfully.

"Then it doesn't act the same way as the T-virus, does it? Hm, then I guess we have an edge here. We won't get infected if we come into contact with it, for it only spreads through direct transmission."

"So it wouldn't turn us into monsters if, say, an infected dog bit us?" asked Ashton.

"I can't say for certain, but I don't think we'd be in danger. The T-virus is something different..." replied Alan worriedly. Then, he shifted his attention to Leon again. "What else do you know about it?" Leon chose his way of explaining things carefully; he didn't intend to take over but since he was the one with the information, he'd have to.

For two minutes he spoke, relaying the information to the team as specifically as he could, trying not to forget any details. After he finished, everyone waited for his words to sink in, and Jackson spoke.

"It would kill half of the population in the nick of time… Man, Umbrella sure likes commotions, huh?"

"Well, there's something that really doesn't add up, y'know…" said Jason, scanning everyone with his coal-black gaze and crossing his arms. "What I don't get is why Umbrella would strike again after Raccoon. It must've dealt a great blow to the company and, unless they have something up their sleeve, they should've stayed quiet for a while."

"Tricks they have a good bunch, that you can tell," said Leon as he leaned forward. "And this is one of them."

"Look at the good side though: they're weaker. If we go for it now, they won't have the time or resources to retaliate. Shall we get this over and done with?" Jackson concluded. He didn't need to say anything else, nor did any other of the members; Ashton spoke for everybody with an energetic 'Hell, yeah!' Leon felt sudden energy rush through his body; although dangerous, the mission was thrilling. And he was ready.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

William was starting to get worried. It was already eight and Annette and Sherry hadn't come back. He wouldn't consider it odd, since they'd just gone out to have a little walk around the beach, but receiving no calls from Annette was something that irked him. He lifted himself up from his chair, strode out of his study and picked up his keys, cell phone and sweater along the way. His only thought, as paranoid as he could sometimes get, was Sherry and Annette's safety, repeating the same words in his mind. In a short time, he found himself at the entrance door. The same moment he stepped out through it, he was filled with regret.

He froze in the spot, his heart speeding up. A knot of nervousness and dread settled at the pit of his stomach, which suddenly made him feel dizzy. He wanted to back away, yet his legs wouldn't respond; he was completely anchored to where he stood. Six guns, all pointing at him; six men held them, all clad in black and staring menacingly at him. It was one of the many situations in which William would've panicked, but it was all reduced to fear, as if something inside him told him to stay calm, that there was nothing to fear.

"What's going on? What do you want from me?" he asked, his throat suddenly parched.

"Ha! You?" laughed a blonde one. "Who said it was you we were interested in?" William's heart sank at his words, not believing his ears, feeling as if he had just been punched in the gut. Driven by instinct, he stepped forward, everything falling in place.

"No!" he exclaimed. He was about to break into a run towards them when two of the men closed the way behind him and restrained him, and William felt something hard dig into his abdomen. He suddenly felt weak and fell to his knees. He tried gaining more energy to fight… until a pained exclamation and a scream rang through the air, and he raised his head. "Leave her alone! Annette!!"

She lifted her head, eyes searching for him behind the messy blonde locks that hung in front of her face. She didn't seem injured, just a few bruises and abrasions on her knees, but fear and despair once again lived in her gaze. Annette tried standing, tried with all her might, but another stranger just popped out from behind the van and pushed her to the ground again. When both she and William heard Sherry's call for her mother, William's anger spiked: she was being taken, tears streaming down her cheeks; he could even see in her eyes how much she cared for them, placing them above everybody else… including herself.

In just a second he was standing, both agents on the floor in front of him. He whirled around again, feeling that animal instinct cloud his senses once more, and he grunted after the crack of fire.

"William!!" Annette screamed. She gaped at his bleeding body, four bullets having riddled his chest in less than two seconds, and William fell to his knees again, disbelief, surprise and pain across his features. "No, don't! Please!" Her pleads weren't listened to, and she was lifted up from the ground. Annette's mind started screaming for freedom; they were taking her away from him, they were taking _them_ away from William and she wouldn't allow it. Her body joined the fight, struggling against her restrains restlessly, until she was forced inside the vehicle and lost William from her sight.

Was he that weak after all? Nah, he didn't think so, but he was proving himself to be weak. At least, he hadn't lost his life… yet. Before his body could react to anything, he felt another pain through his heart and the pain sent him down onto the ground, a puddle of blood spreading under him. Bullets… how naïve and stupid from them; to think they'd hurt him with bullets. Physically now, he was bleeding profusely. A wave of helplessness washed over him and he blamed himself; he couldn't do anything, he'd lose them… and that thought accompanied him to unconsciousness.

He started hearing something in that darkness. It was his heartbeat, steady and powerful.

_Boom…_

'What? What do you want?'

_Boom…_

'No, I can't do that. You exist no more… no more!'

_Boom…_

'Leave me alone! Can't you see what's happening?!'

**And won't you, you stupid bastard, stand up and go?! Go after them and get your family back! ****Or you'll force yourself to be consumed… by yourself.**

William slowly, very slowly, pulled himself up and stood on his knees again. His gaze was hollow, no emotion or thought behind his eyes, just as if he was dead. Then, life gushed through him again, filling every corner of his being.

And a deep, inhuman howl rose from his throat again, tearing the silence apart.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Annette was unusually calm after everything that had happened, gently holding Sherry in her arms. Her cries had stopped the same moment Annette had taken her in an embrace and that gesture hadn't been the cause of the girl's silence. It was because Sherry remembered her father's words: he expected her to be strong, and she couldn't cry… and she'd prove her strength. Both their expressions were neutral, emotionless, their souls utterly devoid of feelings to show. Sherry took her mother's hand in a reassuring way, telling her she'd protect her because, as silly as it was to think like that –at least in her point of view- she wouldn't let her get hurt.

Annette wanted to smile at her daughter's gesture, but her heart was numb. Her soul was empty; it wasn't peace, but it wasn't despair or fear. She lifted her head, her blue hues setting upon a certain person at one of the corners. She could tell that his eyes, shielded by his black glasses, were also fixed upon her, examining. Annette's lips parted, and she could just utter…

"It's you…"

He did not smile.

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A/N: Okay! This is the point I wanted to reach. I hope you have enjoyed so far and, please, check the updates section in my profile; there is something important there. Thank you^^


	9. Chapter Nine: Responsible

**AN:** Got nothing to say except for I'm on with this one again, sorry for the late (and Late) update and enjoy!

**Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil or any of its characters, only my OCs.  
_Special thanks to all reviewers!^^_**

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9

Responsible

"_Several police officers, accompanied by a group of witnesses, found a completely burned car next to a traffic light in 8__th__ Avenue with 8__th__ Street, along with numerous trails of blood. After investigating the scene, no bodies were found. As confirmed by one of the witnesses, a body was seen being carried away and it hasn't been seen since then. After retrieving the victim's ID, the victim has been identified as David Trapp, who hasn't been seen since the accident."_

The words of the broadcaster still echoed in Rebecca's head as they searched the scene more thoroughly. With false identifications, it had been easy to make their way through the police cordon and assist the officers there. Anyway, that had been John's task whilst she snuck around trying to find more useful information; no matter what, the police must've had concealed some information from the public and she had the hopes it would help them to find David. She had at first examined the trails of blood and their direction, but that hadn't told them much about his whereabouts.

It had been ten minutes since she'd started and Rebecca hadn't found a single detail of information, until a letter that poked out from a stack of papers called her attention. Turning around so nobody would see the folder, she took it out and shoved the letter in her jacket pocket, carefully turning around again and thanking the officer for his help. Immediately after, she called John and both of them inspected the letter. Why weren't they surprised?

'_**Be quiet and all debts will be paid.'**_

John and Rebecca looked at each other, fearing the worst. Umbrella again.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hell, he was tired. His breathing had slowed down considerably as had his heart; the blood loss was killing him bit by bit. David attempted to move his hands to shake off some numbness but only his wrists complied because his hands were frozen and limp. The strong scent of his own blood reached his nose again and he lifted his head as much as he could, his muscles aching incredibly. His vision was blurred and could only make out silhouettes but wherever he was, feeling a gun's muzzle very close to the back of his head told him it wasn't a nice place. It had been Umbrella again. He wondered, why would he still be alive? Well, the later, the better… or not that much.

Even if his senses were clouded, there was one that wasn't and that was his hearing, which was still as acute as always. He had to think of a plan to escape but with all that darkness and his leg in its awful state, there wasn't much he'd be able to do. In those circumstances, sitting and waiting was an option he was reluctant to take and it was time to.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Keep your eyes open, Claire. There can be-- Aha!_

Claire was in luck after her brief search around the accident scene, because she had found more trails of the victim's blood. Right now, she was near an area with a few warehouses, which was the start of the problem: in which to look? Carefully, she withdrew her Beretta 92 from its holster and proceeded to investigate, careful enough not to make any sound other than the dull crunching of the soil underfoot. In those moments of uncomfortable silence, Claire took a few seconds to prepare herself for whatever could come out of the warehouses, inspect and act according to what she saw.

Almost on cue, she heard a dog barking inside one of the warehouses and she couldn't help to think ironically. Gun at the ready, she approached the barks' source and made an effort to distinguish words from animal sounds.

"Keep that dog quiet!" somebody from the inside said. Claire frowned; it all sounded too fishy. She scanned the warehouse's outlook: a few windows, none too big yet enough for people to climb out, and they wouldn't let too much light get inside. It was night already, so the darkness would give her some advantage.

Whilst she kept reasoning, the door opened with a loud and unpleasant creak, a man stepped outside, a cigarette in one hand and a Remington in the other, the butt of the weapon propped against his hip. Claire kept still as a rock and silently traversed to the left, heading for the back of the building. As she did, she noticed her steps echoing slightly off and she whirled around, weapon trained on the darkness; whoever was behind her imitated her almost on sync and silence reigned again.

"Don't!" It was a girl who'd talked, her voice pitched as low as possible, and Claire cocked an eyebrow. "It's Chris Redfield's sister, Claire!" _Alright, these guys seem to know me. Question is, do _I_ know _them_?_ As the girl stepped closer, Claire recognised her as Rebecca Chambers, another member of the S.T.A.R.S. Rebecca motioned at her to duck.

"What are you doing here?" Rebecca asked moving her head in all directions. Claire shrugged almost unconsciously.

"The accident, if that sums it up," replied Claire. "There was a guy at the front, did you--?"

Rebecca smiled faintly. "John took care, yeah."

"Hope he's having nice dreams." He joked. "We've seen only two more of them inside; with a diversion, David's ours in the nick of time."

"These warehouses have back doors, so if we make some noise from one of them, we might lure somebody out. We take that one out, two of us get inside, secure and out with David."

"I'll stay outside," said Claire. "You get inside and get him." Rebecca seemed reluctant but it was their best option; she'd secure David and John would take him outside. Moreover, Claire didn't seem like a bad shot, so she nodded and they got to work. Claire walked over to the back door, stepped back a few metres and shouted.

"C'mon, guys! We can hide around here!!" Her voice boomed throughout the area and it was more than enough to attract one of the Umbrella men inside. Furious, he went out the back door right after Claire had managed to hide, motioning at John and Rebecca to get inside through the front, which was still open. As soon as those orders came, Rebecca carefully made it inside, squeezing herself through the opening to avoid further noises, and located somebody else standing inside a control cabin on the far left corner. Snapping her fingers as a sign for her partner to follow, they both trotted to the entrance of the cabin and Rebecca posted herself at the door, gun at the ready.

Then, she slammed the door open with her shoulder and deliberately stagger to her left side, the gun trained on the stranger, who noticed her immediately. Before he could shoot her though, John had already shot him twice, having entered right after Rebecca had. The man collapsed behind the desk he stood behind of dead, holes on his shoulder and chest.

"John, the door!" exclaimed Rebecca, holstering her gun and turning on a light. The moment the room was enlightened, relief and dread washed over her after seeing David strapped to a chair, his head limp and his breathing shaky and slow. "God, he's a mess!"

Hearing this and finally aware of the situation, David chuckled and coughed, proving he was conscious. Rebecca quickly undid his restrains and kept him balanced before moving any further, noticing the gaping wound on his leg with blood caked around it.

"Injured left leg, two cracked ribs and cuts on the right side of the face, that's the current status… And I don't know if there's--"David couldn't continue, started coughing once again and exclaimed between clenched teeth as Rebecca pulled a face.

"Coast clear, Rebecca." Said John nodding his head and Rebecca nodded too.

"I need help with him. Can you carry him, John? I'll cover." She said. David felt his body start to comply and finally react, but then he cursed the wave of pain that coursed through him when he came aware of all the aching spots. He then caught glimpse of John lifting him from his seat and he limped alongside him to the door.

"Wait!" he exclaimed with a hoarse voice. "Rebecca, check the desks for documents; there's something of use in there." Rebecca looked reluctant but did as he told and rummaged through the drawers until she stumbled across a folder labelled **Experiment 6105FGARK.**

"An experiment in South America?" she repeated as she skimmed over the first page. David nodded and swallowed hard. "Alright, we'll check it back home. Let's go." Rebecca closed the folder, tucked it under her arm and the three made their way outside the cabin. It took them no more than a minute; David was feeling better. They found Claire at the front door, signs of exhaustion across her features and both fellows lying next to her unconscious. She and David exchanged a look but remained silent, accepting in wasn't the time for Q&A.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Annette's eyes went back to Sherry once again, wondering for how long they had been inside the vehicle; with the stone silence reigning between them, it was very hard to tell. Once again, her gaze fell upon Wesker who, behind his emotionless expression, felt calm and uneasiness battling each other, arising certain nervousness. Wesker shifted in his seat and what happened next happened too fast: a huge collision, like a tree smashing against the side of the van, and then everything was spinning uncontrollably.

Three seconds later he found himself lying on his back, his whole body aching for an instant before the pain subsided and cursing his misfortune; whatever had struck the vehicle, it wasn't human… And the hunch he had wasn't something he'd like to think about.

Annette and Sherry didn't make it unscathed, mostly Annette who had received a few bumps on her arms and legs and had some bruises on her face. Annette looked up, feeling Sherry still in her arms. She had the same hunch he'd had a second ago and she carefully sat up, avoiding the shards of glass next to her. Then, the crack of gunfire and the crack of a neck, sounds which surprised everyone. Gunshots were still being heard and Wesker quickly made it outside the wrecked van and scanned his surroundings for the attacker. Nothing for a moment, then the silence being disrupted behind him; he was immediately blocking one of William's blows after realizing.

"Where are they? And don't make me repeat myself!!" bellowed William after backing a few steps. "If they have much more than--"

"A scratch?" completed Wesker in his usual monotone. "Don't blame me when it was you who knocked the vehicle over."

"Why are you doing this?! I just don't understand!"

"My reasons are none of your concern. It's all just a matter of work," he told William coldly.

"Using _my_ family?!" William replied, his voice rising again. "I won't allow it!" Before he could charge again, he was held back by the arms again, this time in a much stronger grip. He fought against his captor yet it was futile; there was no way to make it out, and his body even seemed to act on its own accord. A whoosh and a click and Wesker's gun was mere inches from his forehead and his finger on the trigger, ready to pull it when necessary. Although William's mind refused to surrender, his body did and his gaze glanced straight into Wesker's.

Sherry's eyes snapped open at the sound of her father's voice echoing in her head. She shook off Annette's arms (much to her dismay), rapidly stood up and climbed out of the wrecked van, running towards William at full speed, whom she found restrained and at the brink of death; one bullet and it was all over. She gasped, tears stinging at her eyes once again but she held them back, showing the strength she had convinced herself to show.

"Dad!" she exclaimed in dread.

William gasped this time, inwardly cursing his luck. "Don't leave your mother's side, Sherry!" he told her, but the girl wasn't intimidated by his tone and stepped further. Suddenly, William's expression hardened like never before and Sherry's eyes widened, fearing the worst. Slowly and hesitantly, she nodded and started stepping away without taking her eyes off him.

"Sherry, run!!" Sherry whirled around at the sound of her mother's scream in horror and that same emotion came in a merciless wave: another man was yanking at Annette's hair and holding her still with a gun placed next to her temple. Sherry's legs felt like butter and she gulped, her jaw trembling in fear. She hadn't faced something more horrifying than seeing her parents close to being assassinated in front of her eyes.

"Mom!!" she shrieked, tears streaking down her cheeks. A harsh realization dawned upon her; she turned around, her bleary eyes shining with tears behind her moving locks, and she fixed them upon Wesker. Like a sixth sense, something told her he was tenser than she'd seen him before. "Why are you doing this to us?!" she asked him in fury.

Only Wesker's eyes moved to her, along with his head, but he didn't speak. William kept glaring at him, his eyes gleaming unusually, and Wesker's next action made his anger spike to unconceivable levels: lowering his gun, he slowly walked up to Sherry. Although afraid, the girl didn't make any movement and stood firmly looking at him as his shadow eerily loomed over her. Wesker's demeanour wasn't what changed, but his voice and ever so subtly. "You will understand soon enough."

A pinch of pain was all Sherry felt before everything went black.

"Sherry!!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Leon zipped his duffel bag and sighed, proceeding to buckle his belt and boots. As immersed as he was in his thoughts, he didn't notice Jason calling him until Hugh nudged his upper arm. Instantly, Kennedy's head shot up and looked nervously at his partner. Jason spoke no more but lent Leon a holstered Glock 37 with five loaded magazines inside a leather pouch. Leon nodded as thanks and Jason smirked in response, turning to his packaging once again.

He was done sooner than anybody and, after slinging his M16A4 (the standard model) over his shoulder and taking his equipment, he met Alan outside the changing rooms. Alan welcomed him with a smile and extended his hand.

"Although we're already acquaintances," he said, "Let me introduce myself. I'm Alan Connors, point man of the unit."

"Leon Kennedy, position pending." Leon smiled and said shaking Alan's hand, who chuckled wholeheartedly. Leon lowered his head, the smile still on his face, and ran a hand through his hair, brushing away some locks that once again fell in front of his forehead.

"Nervous?" asked Alan. Leon didn't know what to answer: he was used to that kind of stuff but, on the other hand, he wished none of it had happened in the first place. After hesitating, he nodded, making Alan chuckle again.

"I'd better get used to it soon, I guess," Leon replied shrugging his shoulders. Alan smiled once again and, in that smile, Leon noticed something more than warmth; it was all in Alan's green hues. Then, Leon noticed something else aside from his expression: a Desert Eagle and a USP Expert neatly placed in his thigh holsters. "An USP Calibre 45? Never seen one of those before."

"Yeah, I always carry it. Since it's customized, I've considered it my lucky gun since I first used it. It's never failed."

"How is it customized?" asked Leon, keeping other matters aside. He thanked Alan's versatility and easiness to adapt to other conversations. Alan drew the USP and showed it to Leon.

"The barrel's three millimetres longer, so is the handle, and the whole thingy is stainless steel." He explained. "Also, it carries two more rounds, making it fourteen instead of twelve."

Leon whistled in surprise. "Unstoppable, word that pretty much sums everything up." He joked. Alan tilted his head and holstered the USP, propping himself against the wall afterwards. In that moment, Ashton, Hugh and Jason made it out of the room, each one with their gear. Hugh had a Mossberg 590 as the secondary weapon and Ashton was the one in charge of the grenades. Jason, on his side, sported an M40 sniper rifle and a 9mm Beretta as his secondary.

Ashton smirked. "Well, since Alan kindly introduced himself, it wouldn't be proper if we didn't. You already know me, Ashton Foxwell, and these are Hugh Rivera and Jason Bir-"

"Ashton!" Jason interrupted him incredibly curtly. He earned a glare from Foxwell, which he returned with his black gaze, and then looked at Leon.

"It's Prince, Jason Prince." He then told Leon as bluntly as when he'd addressed Ashton. Leon nodded and, judging by the resentful expression of Ashton, Leon knew that they didn't get along very well… also, that Jason was hiding his identity for an unknown reason. Kennedy had a huge hunch, but his guess seemed far-fetched. _Maybe not that much?_, he told himself instinctively tilting his head.

"So, are you guys ready or what?" bellowed Jackson from the far end of the hall. He wasn't angry by no means but there wasn't too much happiness in his voice either. With nothing to say, the unit marched down the hall to reach his position and Leon heard Alan whisper in his ear:

"Although rough, Jason's a good guy."

"Maybe you're right, but I'll keep my distances for a while." Leon shot back with a tinge of coldness in his voice. Alan smiled, shrugged and left him behind whilst saying:

"Suit yourself."

When they reached Jackson, the look on his face was a bad omen. Everyone save Leon had already seen him with worse and grimmer expressions before but this one was different and big time. Jackson's eyes searched for Hugh, whom he addressed in a sorrowful voice. As Jackson spoke to him, Hugh's hand stopped at midway from his unkempt brown hair, a lump of dread forming at his stomach and tightening cruelly.

"Hugh… your siblings have been killed."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Ethan, keep it down alright?" Alex snapped slamming down her pen on the table. From the other room, she heard Ethan exclaim in frustration and settle down for a moment while Alex finished her daily homework. Maths… how she hated it.

A violent bump startled her and she stood up, the chair dragging backwards with a loud sound, and she immediately came face to face with a gun with a silencer attached to its barrel. She wanted to run away but her legs left her frozen in place and two words escaped her lips.

"Where's Ethan?" The man didn't say anything but didn't make any movements to shoot her yet. In silence and surreptitiously, Alex slid her hand backwards and grabbed a nearby empty glass, filled with water before, and she threw it at him as she ducked, making him aim again and dodge the flying object. In that instant, Alex took her chance to make her way out of the kitchen through a side door and climb up the stairs as fast as she could. _Remember what Hugh told you… hide in the loft! But where's Ethan?_ A terrible truth dawned upon her: her brother was dead.

Fighting back the tears, she reached the trapdoor to the loft and pulled but it didn't lower. Once again, she did, feeling her heart pound in her chest and ears, the adrenaline making her feel more nervous than she already was. Finally, it gave in and dropped. Alex hurried inside, closing the entrance after her and looking for a convincing place to hide.

But the same moment she turned around, a bullet went through her forehead and she dropped dead, blood pooling under her lifeless body.

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A/N: Aha! More mysteries surrounding the characters, especially Jason. I think you might have a hunch by now about who he really is, don't you? xDDD


	10. Chapter Ten: Cooperation

10

Cooperation

The first thing she felt was pain and numbness assailing every single one of her limbs; then, a nasty taste in her mouth and her face hot and sweaty. It was horrible, the worst she'd ever felt, and she instantly felt dizzy, her insides churning and her head aching. For more than ten minutes after regaining consciousness, Sherry laid upside down, her gaze staring blankly at the wall -actually the ceiling - in front of her. Slowly, her mind started working, thoughts starting to race and fit like pieces. Sherry gasped, remembering, and carefully sat up as she scanned her position. She was inside a cold and unfamiliar room with naked walls, no windows and just a bed, on which she laid. Sherry lifted an eyebrow: she was in big trouble.

Fear invaded her, suddenly thinking about all that had happened… when? How much had she been there? Questions with no answers flooded her mind, but there was one that she placed above all else: where were her parents? She feared they'd be hurt… or even worse if their captors had dared to go that far. And Sherry felt it again, that overwhelming pain that almost made her faint at school. It was like something was moving inside her, desperate to make its way out and exit her body or even take hold of it and control it. She held back a complaint; she couldn't afford that. She wouldn't show weakness.

Everything was getting too much for her and she decided to wait for the pain to subside, sitting with her legs tucked in and arms around them. She lost track of time as she waited without moving an inch when, at the moment she least expected it, she heard a painful and hoarse scream in horror, high-pitched and showing madness. It made her jump out of her skin and she retreated backwards until she touched the wall. When the echo disappeared, Sherry didn't fight against her curiosity and apprehensively paced towards the bars that secluded her. Grasping them, she tried getting a better sight of both directions of the hall but she could barely see. Then, another scream, this one louder and crazier. Sherry felt her legs tremble.

It was then that she noticed that the wall at her left wasn't a brick wall but a thick glass pane that separated her from the other room. When she looked there, it was her who screamed, a brief but loud noise escaping her lips in fear. She was gazing at a skinny woman kneeling near the bars and trying to shake them, wanting to rip them out to let her escape. The woman screamed again, another hoarse sound tearing from her throat. She gave up, obviously knowing there was no way to bend the bars, and she let herself sit down. Her hair, light brown with highlights, was tangled and dishevelled and fell upon her face completely covering it. When the woman looked up, her face was revealed: her eyes were of an intense blue colour but they had lost their lively gleam and the hues were lacklustre.

Sherry felt a knot in the pit of her stomach when the woman looked at her and she almost jumped back. Her face was bloody, the crimson liquid already dry and caked, and her cheeks, forehead and corners of the eyes had blood streaking down in thick lines. Also, Sherry could see a wound at her neck inflicted by a paw or maybe even her own fingers, which could've dug into her flesh and ripped it open. The wound was swollen, red and slowly getting infected; at that rate, the woman would die either because of blood loss or infection. Her clothes, a long-sleeved white shirt and white slacks, had blood stains all over them and they were tattered and dirty. The woman smiled sadly, revealing her straight and slightly dirty teeth.

"They've brought another one…" she spoke. Her voice gave Sherry the creeps: low, rasp and her words heavy with sorrow. "Poor child. Only God knows what they'll do to you… if such thing as a god exists." The lines the blood had traced were retraced by fresh tears that left her eyes. Her face contorted in a mask of despair and pain and she looked away, burying it in her arms and her shoulders convulsing in a low cry. Sherry felt her chest heavy with sadness and she got closer to the glass pane, gazing at the woman with the hope she would stop crying soon. Even if she was a stranger, she pitied her; she couldn't bring herself to imagine through how much she must've gone.

The woman finally lifted her head again, looking at the blonde girl with the same sad smile tugging at her lips as she continued to cry. "What's your name?"

"I'm Sherry." The girl replied, offering the woman her sincerest of smiles. The brunette wiped her tears and got closer to the pane, still in a cowering crouch.

"My name is Samantha." Said Sherry's companion. Sherry felt her curiosity pique again and she dared to ask in a quiet voice.

"How did--"

However, Samantha saw the question coming before she even finished and she answered quickly. "I was brought here eight years ago and I've been here all this time as a guinea pig… and a successful one, might I add." She added with bitterness. Sherry's mouth dropped open but she closed it as soon as she realized. _Eight years?_

"Eight years, yeah. 'Been alive all this time thanks to mere willpower, I guess. I just don't wanna die yet, you see. I need to see sunlight once again, at least." Samantha smiled ruefully, and Sherry could see a flicker of joy and enthusiasm appear in her tired gaze, gone as soon as it had come.

Their conversation was abruptly interrupted by the sound of a door opening and several people stepping inside the cell area and the steps quickly neared Samantha's and Sherry's cells. They were only three men, all armed, and Samantha shot them a look full of hatred and rage; in that instant, when they opened her door, Samantha screamed once again and tried to knock down the first that got inside. Her fit of rage was enough for her to lose focus and she was quickly immobilised and subdued, just like a tamed animal. Sherry watched in awe, unable to believe what she'd seen: when Samantha's mouth had opened, her fangs had grown at a great speed; both in width and length and curving inwardly like a snake's.

Her newly grown teeth had menaced to bite at the first neck that was in her reach but they didn't get their chance, and Samantha renewed her struggling in her captor's arms to be once again tamed. As fast as they'd come, the men left with a calm Samantha and as they disappeared, Sherry's eyes settled upon a familiar person that made her blood run cold. Fear took hold of her again and he left after seeing her expression.

"Why are you here?!" Sherry asked him. But it was too late for him to hear her, for he was gone in a blink of an eye.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It had been hard curing all of his wounds, especially not being in a hospital. Despite that, Rebecca could manage with all the equipment she had at their residence and, with Claire's help, it had been a bit easier. After dressing David's wounds and waiting day and a half for his almost-full recovery, the group had discussed their situation and shared information about everything they'd seen. Umbrella was more of a pain in the ass than they originally thought, especially after Caliban Cove.

The folder they had found at the warehouse, '**Experiment 6105FGARK' **as it was labelled, had given them information about the project, but not as much as they had wanted to. It only told about the location of the experiment, South America, but didn't disclose any information about specific locations or subjects for the experiment; it was all too vague. Though there was one piece of information they didn't throw away: the viral agent was the G-virus.

"The police are bought. We can't trust anybody now," Rebecca told David. He shot her a dark glance, his dark eyes gleaming with frustration, and she shrugged, unable to do anything about the matter. When David dropped back into the couch again, he let out a tired sigh, running his hand through his hair as he closed his eyes.

"We can't do much right now, considering the state I am in. Bloody hell…!"

"Hey, hey, w-" started John, but David brought down his hand on the cushion next to him.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, blaming myself doesn't help." Once again, David sighed, feeling overwhelmed again by the nagging sensation of impotence.

"We can at least try and find out what's Umbrella doing around here. There has to be a facility or a lab around her in this county." Piped up Claire, crossing her arms.

" 'We'?" said Rebecca, yet not unkindly.

"Of course! I just can't leave you guys here, considering how David is," she replied matter-of-factly. "I think the more people you have, the better." David arched an eyebrow at the Redfield, who shrugged her shoulders casually.

"We might do good with some more help. May I ask though why you were around here?"

"I was on my way to the airport to catch a flight to New York. My brother has his old flat there and I thought I could spend some time there before getting organized. I stopped nearby to take a break and it was then when I heard the news about the accident." She explained.

"What's your brother's name?" asked John, spreading his hands.

"It's Chris, Chris Redfield." David's brows shot up.

"We recently worked with him, in a way."

"Not recently, but two months ago," chuckled John, correcting his partner. David smiled feebly. "Not thinking too straight yet, are we?"

"It would seem so," agreed, playfully, David. Then his expression turned serious. "Well, we still can't do much now, so I think it's best that we wait. We need to keep gathering information about this." Everyone nodded and it was then when Rebecca noticed a small paper sticking out of David's jacket, which was resting upon a chair.

"David, you didn't notice this, didn't you?" she commented as she approached the garment and picked the paper up. With a small movement, David lifted himself up on his elbows and shook his head, his brow knitting together as Rebecca unfolded the paper and stared at it in shock when she read it. "You have to read this."

David quickly took the paper, gazing at it as John and Claire did so from above his shoulder.

"Oh, goddamn it…"

_**It'll all be taken care of. Sorry for the inconvenience, Mr. Trapp. And don't interfere, no matter what happens.**_

_**T.**_

And so the paper read. Claire, John and Rebecca exchanged looks in concern whilst David didn't lift his gaze from the notice. _A 'T'… why is it familiar?_ Then, his gaze flitted to John and Rebecca. "You know what this _has_ to mean, right? I don't think the 'T' goes unnoticed." Rebecca nodded firmly.

"If Trent's behind the cleanup, guess we don't have to worry."

"I don't trust this," said David categorically. "Whatever he's plotting, it's not in his interest that we find out."

"But this Trent guy could be related to the experiment in South America, could he?" asked Claire. "I'm having a feeling he's related to Umbrella and that you've met him before."

"Touché, Claire," replied John. "He gave us valuable information when we went to Caliban Cove. Guy says he's against Umbrella, just like us… but in his own way, gotta add that." Claire looked at David for confirmation, and he confirmed John's words with a solid nod.

"He could be related to that experiment in South America, though it's improbable. He can't be collaborating with his archenemy; that just wouldn't add up. Although, in a way, he could be trying to get rid of it."

"Could that be the reason why he told us to stay out of this mess?" asked Rebecca, a look of concern flashing across her features. Nobody replied to her question, and David remained pensive, rubbing his chin. Then, he spoke darkly and grimly.

"It could be the reason but, if you want me to be frank, it's not just about what's happened recently. There's something else, something that's going on and we don't know about. And it's bad, too much." He shook his head gravely. "I don't like this."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Hours later…_

'_We're still flying and it's getting to me. Really, I've never been __so anxious in my whole life, and… hey, what am I doing writing? Could be the stress and I need to pour it somewhere else before it gets worse. We still don't know anything more than we already know about this case and I have a bad feeling; I've had it since the start. It's not because Umbrella is involved in this, which is quite much as of now, but it's about something I can't describe just now. It's not normal; there's something else going on. And I can't see it.'_

Leon put the pen down and gingerly rubbed his eyes with his fingers. He hadn't gotten the sleep he needed yet and with everything that was going on, sleeping would be difficult and quite necessary at the same time. Most of his partners were already dozing off but not one, and it was that one who was sitting next to Leon: Jason. The young blond man was wide awake, his gaze blank and lost and his chin perched on his hand. He hadn't said a word in the whole trip, remaining stoically silent and rough, but Leon could see sadness and guilt in his gaze, fact that made Leon frown for the hundredth time. _'Although rough, Jason's a good guy_', Alan had told him. In fact, Jason didn't seem a bad guy at all, just not a very open person.

"What is it that you can't see?" Jason asked suddenly. Leon's head perked up in surprise and found himself meeting Jason's gaze evenly. As his hues looked intensely at him from the corner of his eyes, Leon could clearly see a strange gleam in his gaze: killer, bloodthirsty… inhuman. Those eyes reminded him of someone, yet Leon couldn't put his finger on it yet. Still, he replied to Jason's question with a feeble smile.

"You have a good sight," he said. "If you want me to be frank, it frustrates me not seeing what lies under this matter. I just simply know there's something else."

Jason shifted in his seat, moving to a more comfortable position. "Like a hunch you can't ignore? Something that will haunt your mind for the rest of time unless you find out, dig out the truth and expose it to the world?"

"That exactly." Agreed Leon with a nod. Jason chuckled humourlessly, without a smile into which his mouth would upturn, and looked at Leon once again sideways.

"I've felt like that since I was born, if I remember well. I know I'm exaggerating, but I had that feeling since I can remember." He said with sincerity; a sincerity uncharacteristic in him. "I've always thought the world we live in is a part of a bigger scheme, that everybody has an ulterior motive that drives them to do what they actually do. I believe I'm correct in assuming you agree with me?"

"I have to admit I do, and you receive examples of it every day. It's constant, and it actually gets under your skin sometimes." Replied Leon, and he spread his hands. For the first time in the month that they'd been together, Leon saw Jason smile, feebly but he did. It was a smile full of frankness and hope, a smile that told Leon Jason had placed his trust on him.

"Finally I can dialogue with somebody who doesn't look down on me." He commented. Leon chuckled.

"Why would I?"

"That's the question, Leon: why would you look down on me? What motives would you have to despite me, to make me feel like an outcast? I'm asking for motives without considering matters like morality, the typical 'because I like you or I don't'; I'm asking about things you see inside a person. Why would those things make you somebody different?"

Leon could instantly get the different meaning he'd given to the word 'different'. _It's not because of things that distinguish us, those things that make us unique. He's talking about 'different' from a collective point of view and, also, individual. He's somebody interesting; I've liked ethics and philosophy most of the time._

"If you want an answer, let me think about it. Your question was really interesting."

"You don't have to answer it, Leon. I'm just… I needed to say it, and I don't know why I felt better if I shared it with you." Said Jason without erasing his smile. Leon felt Jason was a special person; like the unfitting piece of an homogeneous puzzle in which all pieces were the same.

"Jason, can I ask you a question?"

Jason nodded. "Go ahead."

Leon pursed his lips and reflected before asking, then, "Do you have any close relatives?" Jason shifted again and his coal gaze flitted to find Leon's.

"Can I be frank with you?" asked Jason before replying. It was Leon's turn to nod, and Jason spoke. "My mother's dead and my father's one big bastard, that's all there's to my family. Interesting, huh?" he said bitterly sarcastic. Leon frowned at his words, knowing that, as he and Jason had spoken before, there was something else Jason's words belied. The way he'd interrupted Ashton back at HQ was unnatural and just by the sound that had escaped Ashton's mouth, Leon had a horrible hunch.

"Hey, guys!" Ashton piped up from the beginning of the hall. "The pilot says we're almost there, so get off your butts 'cause we're goin' in! ETA: six minutes." Ashton almost sounded excited and Leon rolled his eyes as he and Jason got to their feet and collected their bags.

_There's nothing much to this mission: it's just go inside and investigate about these guerrillas, this Carlos Oliveira and the G-virus. There wouldn't be much else, unless you're a maniac and you want to kill everything in sight__. If they think it's going to be like child's play, they're very wrong, though I should know better. I think that, with all Alan and I have told them, they'll be careful enough. First things first: there's got to be trust between the members of a group; if not, sometimes you're screwed and others… you get cruelly backstabbed._

Pushing those thoughts away, Leon concentrated in the current mission and kept a serene expression throughout the rest of the journey. As they landed, he could start feeling the typical hotness of South America and the dampness in the air; also, the hostility of the ambient.

Things were going to get bad from that moment on.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Yeah, it's been a long time since I updated and I have to say I'm sorry. Lost inspiration but got it back again. Y'know, I've become fond of Jason; I'm giving him quite the personality and I'm liking him. You'll find out about his past as the story goes on. And what of this Samantha? How will everything turn out? I'll try to update ASAP. Take care, everyone!^^


	11. Chapter Eleven: Heartless Doll

11

Heartless Doll

When Leon stepped a foot upon the moist ground of the tropical forest near Plaza Azul, he received a slap of heat in his face, the air damp in spite of the time and instantly getting under his skin. He had never been in such a place and he had the feeling it wouldn't be his last time in a similar place.

As soon as the helicopter dropped them two kilometres away from Plaza Azul, the group started moving. Jackson had not accompanied them, remaining in the helicopter as a liaison with HQ in case reinforcements were needed. Everybody had the hopes they wouldn't be necessary; they wanted to finish the mission as soon as they could and with no casualties or major problems whatsoever. With Umbrella behind the situation and with the events likely to change in the most unexpected of ways, that would be the most difficult goal of them all.

It would be mostly a night-time mission, since the time had been 4 am local when Leon had last checked his watch. The group walked in pairs, Jason being the one in charge of rear security this time and the member who was left unpaired. Hugh, who had switched places with Jason, and Alan were on point man position whilst Leon was paired with Ashton, who looked focused yet unsettled under his serious expression. A stone silence reigned between them, disturbed only by sounds in their environment, sounds they found abnormally normal. They could not be ignored, for they foretold disaster.

Their surroundings were eerie and the various animals' sounds were constantly ringing through the air. The terrain was rugged and presented shallow holes and depressions, most of them hidden well by the thick layer of grass and moss on which they were stepping. Thanks to the bright moonlight and the big space between the trees' tops, the unit could get out of the clearing without mishaps until they went deeper inside, where the light was scarce.

Leon quickly went through their orders again: first and foremost, find and detain Carlos Oliveira and second, obtain evidence and samples of his plot with the G-virus. It all made him uneasy, mostly because of the undesired attention due to his necessary and little knowledge about the G-virus; even little was enough in those cases. He had some support though; Alan, being the point man, was also the biological specialist and he possessed information about the virus that started it all: the T-virus. Leon hadn't heard about it, until he discovered from Alan it was what had infected Raccoon city and had been its early death.

Leon glanced behind him, earning another short glance at him from Jason. Leon was surprised: under the intense moonlight that beamed down on them through the tops of the bushy trees, Jason looked worse than he had originally noticed. His black eyes were tired, an unusual gleam of exhaustion and apathy in them, and he looked skinnier and paler than before. In spite of it, Jason seemed a man of a strong complexion, despite the thin arms he showed to have. Although with the humidity and how clothes tended to stick to their bodies, it looked worse.

It wasn't long until they reached a bridge above a wide river that separated Plaza Azul and the forest, and that is when things started getting complicated.

At the sight of mercenaries guarding the other side of the bridge, Alan immediately gestured for everyone to drop to a crouch behind a group of thick, big bushes, and they examined the mercenaries. Alan took his binoculars and had a long, thorough look, the night-vision mode on.

"Hm… they don't seem from Umbrella…" he muttered in a low voice. "Although nobody knows who they are affiliated with."

"They might be mercenaries of that Oliveira guy," added Hugh, imitating Alan. Then, he exclaimed. "Boys, they're not mercenaries and not guerrillas either: they're from the Argentine Army!"

"What the hell?!" exclaimed Ashton, shooting an unbelieving glance at Hugh. "They're completely bought!" He looked at the soldiers again. "We'd better not touch them, or they'll sue us for sure."

"I don't think it's a good time for jokes, Ashton, but you're right." Said Alan with a faint smile, in spite of the situation.

"If you all remember," intervened Jason with his deep vibrant voice, "they're affiliated with this Carlos Oliveira. Everybody who is related to him is related to Umbrella, ergo they mustn't be kept alive. If they come to know about our actions here, they will most likely shift the blame to our government, one way or another; it doesn't matter how. We can't let them live or another type of virus will surely spread." He added pointedly.

"We'll obtain from them as much information as we can, at least. There are more ways than one to skin a cat, and it's not necessarily the first method you stumble upon," Leon piped up, easing the tension Jason's words had arisen. They both exchanged a cross look, in spite of the friendly conversation they had had a few hours ago. Jason arched an eyebrow, a small smug and mocking smirk tugging at his lips.

Leon tilted his head as if wanting to look away because of the derision Jason instilled him, and he answered him firmly. "Jason, we'd better not act rashly. There might not be another virus, but two, and I'm not exactly referring to Umbrella."

His companion sighed tiredly, sick of hearing the same thing over and over again. "I know very well how we should act, Scott, but I'm just reminding everybody how we've operated since this unit was formed." Jason retorted, unfazed. "And we haven't allowed any exceptions." Alan was taken aback and he looked surprised when Jason glared reproachfully at him.

"Once in a while, they're made." With that curt answer and gathering his wits, Alan put a final end to the conversation, returning to the matter at hand. Jason looked away calmly, although deliberately showing how pissed he was.

"Hugh, there's not another route to get to Plaza Azul, is there?" inquired Alan afterwards.

"Hm… no. Well, yes, there's another that would take us two hours or even more to cross." He replied as he carefully unfolded the map and examined it. "See? Through here: it borders the landing zone, it would go…" He shifted to orientate himself. "…From this position it would go west to the landing zone, then north, east again and then east southeast to Plaza Azul. We would give these soldiers the slip, but it would take much longer." He explained in detail. Alan rubbed his chin, his gaze moving to the army soldiers again.

"We can't afford any delays. Hugh, you don't see a number of soldiers above those two that are there, do you?" he asked. Hugh, after taking one more look, shook his head.

"No, although I think I see a small control post; let's see… um… at least 21 yards away from the other side." He replied. Ashton and Jason exchanged a quick glance, and the latter nodded, starting to rummage through one of his buttpacks without a single noise and pulling a small cartridge from the pack as Ashton whispered to Alan:

"He can make the shot."

"What?!" Alan exclaimed. "He'll give our position away! You know how far the ejected casings are propelled! He might be the sniper of the team, but it'll just make it worse!"

"Tch, chill out, Alan. We all know he'll make it." Whilst they argued, Jason had used his jacket and a big stone to rest the M40, getting ready to snipe the enemy out.

"What are you doing?" Leon asked Jason, who slammed the magazine into his sniper rifle and cycled the first round into weapon, bringing the bolt back and releasing it. Still busy, Jason didn't reply and only brought his eye to the scope, taking precise and confident aim. Instead of him replying, it was Ashton, with a small nudge to Leon's arm.

"Zip it and watch, Leon. Jason isn't as meek as he looks."

Jason glanced at Ashton through the corner of his eyes, clicking his tongue in annoyance. "I heard that, you bastard. You've got a storm coming."

"Oooh, I'm really scared." He quipped with a snort. Alan disapproved of their behaviour, but he also knew about Jason's next move.

"Is that the upgraded one?"

"Uh-huh. Now, if you please… If you please, do split up to both of my sides, ten metres away from each other; I'll need back-up fire if things get bad." Jason let his voice trail away and held his breath, keeping the cannon steady.

"Which is why we shouldn't do this!" hissed Alan.

"Wanna take the hard route, delay the mission and as such wait and find dead people?" shot back Ashton. "Zip it, Alan, and trust him. Besides, you're not alone, alright?"

Jason let out his breath and took another deep one, steadying himself. "Alright: target one, 17 yards, wind ¼ value, night vision on… fire when ready." He squeezed the trigger, the bullet dashing towards its target, and the first soldier stumbled to the ground. The shot was loud and indeed gave away the group's position, but Alan, Leon, Ashton and Hugh had already split up and were ready in position.

The fallen man's companion was quick to notice and he raised the alarm, shouting a warning in Spanish that triggered the appearance of two more men who had come out of the control post. Raising his M16, Leon took aim and waited, his grip and pulse steady but heart hammering in his head due to the tension. They all heard the slide and the clicks of Jason's M40's bolt, and a new bullet was cycled in. In less than five seconds, two of the three remaining soldiers had fallen to the ground.

Leon watched astounded, taking in the deadliness of Jason's aim. He didn't seem nervous; his grip was steady and at ease, his breathing normal and it seemed he wouldn't rattle no matter what happened. _As expected from snipers, I guess_, he thought.

"Next: target three, 38 yards, wind ¼ value, night vision on… here goes." He reasoned out loud, aiming to the control room. His shots had obviously alerted the other military man, who stormed outside with a loud exclamation.

"36 yards and closing!" posed Hugh. "C'mon! Get him!" Immediately, Jason tensed, the grip on the M40's handle tightening considerably in an attempt to keep himself steady.

"We got all the time we need…" said Jason calmly, and he fired, knocking the soldier down instantly. "Alright then, there they go. Something you need to know," he said, raising a finger, "They're not dead."

"They're not?" echoed Leon. Then it clicked. "Soporific bullets?" Jason's expression softened and he nodded, standing up as he loaded the rifle again, secured it and gathered his things, following to Alan's position.

"He modified it himself this last spring," replied Ashton. "As you can see, it's longer and bigger than the usual standards of the A3, so that both types of bullets work." He smirked. "That's what you call a beauty."

"Okay, explanations done?" smiled Alan. "Let's keep going."

The group advanced, rapidly crossing the bridge after everyone was ready, and they took care of the bodies. Whilst they, except Hugh, gathered up the sleeping bodies of the soldiers under a bunch of low branches, Hugh trotted to the control post, hoping to find any kind of valuable information. The post was small and flat, the white walls naked save for a small corner at the far bottom left. Hugh approached the table, where he found a laptop and photographs, which left him gaping.

"Leon! Come here a sec!" he called. Outside, Leon's head perked up and he quickly approached his partner, who was already taking a look at all the files stored inside the laptop.

"Do you know this?" Hugh stepped away, leaving Leon to read the file he'd brought up, and the dark haired witnessed how Leon's expression changed into a mask of shock.

"So, what did you find?" asked Alan from the door, his voice briefly startling Leon and Hugh. After witnessing the look of disconcert in their old partner's features, they frowned, staring at Leon as he frantically typed and punched codes in to access more files. A final beep told them he had finished, and the trio stepped inside.

Leon's gaze darted to Alan's, who looked taken aback. "Alan, they've already carried out experiments. People have already started mutating!"

Alan gaped in horror at Leon, whose brow knitted together in trepidation. He, Jason and Hugh approached their companion, Alan reading the file slowly and hoping the information was from another experiment. Unfortunately, it wasn't: as of October the 19th, they had already tested a dozen of virus samples. All experiments had been declared a failure, and when they read that, their hearts sunk.

"Impossible!" Leon took one more look at the file, clenching his fist as he read.

"To top it off, they started yesterday…"

"This means…" Hugh couldn't continue, lowering his head in disbelief.

"The whole village is probably infected by now," Ashton finished the sentence nobody wanted to hear. "Fuck. We're too late." In the silence that ensued, the tension spiked, and Leon looked intensely at Alan, just like everybody else did. Alan was the leader of the unit, the person on who they all relied for orders and procedures most of the time, and they waited expectantly for him to say something. For the first minute and a half, he was silent and crestfallen, his head ducked and shoulders slumped.

_C'mon, this is not the way for a leader to behave_, Alan told himself._ Although you can't really help it; even the important figures have their weaknesses. As the information says, the experiment was carried out yesterday and, if not contained, it must've broken out and most likely half or even more of the population is infected and mutating. Leon told us the expansion rate is incredibly fast, done only by transmitting embryos directly; that, at least, gives us an advantage. We can't certainly dispatch the possibility of the T-virus being around, since where there's one, there's the other. In any case, we have to be careful. The orders are still the same and up, so we're still up with it._

Then, Alan lifted his head with resolution, speaking authoritatively, his voice steady and clear.

"It's not over yet, Ash. Listen well, once we arrive to the village and from then on and _only_ _if_ the situation is as worse as we're reading: one, you will engage in combat; and second, you will listen to _absolutely_ everything Leon tells us concerning precautions against the G-virus, am I clear?"

"Yes, sir!" Jason, Hugh and Ashton answered as one, their voices powerful and determined. Alan nodded and continued. "Leon, could it have already spread?"

"It's possible. Most of the population might be affected." He replied, unsure of his own words. They could all notice that, and Jason tilted his head. _ Well, you can't shift the blame to him. He had enough escaping Raccoon… hell on Earth, literally. _

"Before taking a shot at somebody, examine him or her first; we don't want any innocent lives taken by accident. Let's go!" With nothing else to say, the group headed out, quickly marching and reducing the remaining distance between them and Plaza Azul. With a little bit of luck and a miracle -although unlikely to happen- some people would still be standing as humans and not as abominations.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Claire came to herself again after many hours of much needed sleep and she sat up on the comfortable brown couch she'd slept on, rubbing her eye and running a hand through her long hair. She yawned, hiding her face as she hugged her knees and giving herself some time to fully wake up. Her mind started piecing things together and she shook it immediately, clearing it as a chill ran down her spine. She slipped the blanket around her shoulders and pulled it more tightly around her; even if it was warm inside the house, she felt like they were out in the open.

"Are you feeling alright?" David's voice startled her, and Claire's head perked up, finding him up on his feet with a faint frown on his face. She nodded.

"For now… God, I just hadn't had this much sleep since… Certainly, I can't remember." She said with a smile. The ghost of one flashed across David's face, and he carefully sat down on the sofa opposite her, feeling an intense pain in his chest as he bent.

"I'm glad you had your rest; I've been up since long ago." He replied with a tilt of his head. "With the state of my ribs, it's been hard finding a good position to sleep."

"How're you feeling?"

David shrugged mildly. "I'm feeling fine, for now, but I'll let our medical expert confirm that." Claire smiled at the teasing tone behind 'expert'. The few things she knew about Rebecca Chambers were when she had joined the S.T.A.R.S. Alpha Team and a little bit of her background, all known because of Chris' sporadic calls before the incident at the Arklay mansion. Also, David had narrated a summed up version of their last mission to Caliban Cove, finding it difficult to bring up memories like Karen and Steve's deaths. It had been complicated, but David had taken his time to accept the facts and make his old self return.

"David, you mentioned yesterday that you'd worked with my brother a few months ago. Do you know where he is?"

"I'm afraid not." He replied with a shake of his head, but Claire knew better and her brow creased in stubbornness and frustration.

"Did he make you swear not to say anything to me in case you saw me?" she asked in a bad mood. David raised his brow in surprise, holding both hands up in defence.

"Hold it, Claire, he didn't make me swear anything. After Rebecca and I departed, their whereabouts became unknown to us. I don't know where he is, I promise you." He said firmly. Claire's expression softened and she sighed, both hands on her face.

"He's a jerk sometimes. Why won't he tell me anything?"

Another smile tugged at David's mouth, spreading his hands with frankness. "He's gone through a difficult situation, and so have you; I know. Have in mind that I'm not trying to make him seem like the only victim. You should give him some time; after all, you know how much of a bloody pain Umbrella can be."

"You're telling me…" She sighed. "Well, I guess you're right. Anyway, I'm still drowsy, so I'm sorry I just dumped all my frustration on you." David shrugged, telling Claire no apologies were needed, and she left upstairs after flashing him a bright smile.

David had known a person similar to her, somebody who had spun his world around and had made him see opening up wasn't as bad as he'd originally thought. At first, his classmates at school had thought he was only shy -he had his share of shyness, though- but they soon found out otherwise. David was cold and impassive, barely opening up and secluding himself from the rest of his partners, which was the root of the many problems that always ended with a fight. David had no problem or hesitation to use his fists against whoever took it out on him.

But one day, after a beating that cost him a broken lip and nose, somebody had shown himself to be more than he met the eye.

_I remember Joshua. __He did teach me to open up, but I really didn't take it seriously, not even in high school when things would get bad. He was a good companion - one I fatefully lost after he died in a car accident._

"David?" Rebecca's voice took him out of his musing and he lifted his head, finding her with a kind smile and a curious expression across her face. David smiled faintly.

"Sorry I spaced out. What is it?"

"Same as always: how're you?"

"I'm feeling better; the pain is subsiding and I'm able to move better."

"That's nice to hear," she commented, widening her smile. Then, she sighed. "A busy day awaits us today, doesn't it?"

"I'm afraid so." David lowered his head pensively, and Rebecca pursed her lips.

"I can't imagine what Trent is up to. But whatever his plans are, he wants us to keep away. Could it be something concerning Umbrella?"

"Most likely." David nodded. "We'll conduct a brief and swift investigation on this matter, to see where everything leads, but nothing more. You remember how dangerous Trent could be, one way or another, and I don't want us to be the worst hit. If we find anything that could make us go deeper into the matter, even if it's an obvious trail that we can follow, we will not. I'm not taking any more risks."

"We can't leave this alone, now can we?" asked Rebecca, a look of disconcert across her features.

"We can't afford an intervention, Rebecca. Right now, I want to take it as it comes, since we can't come up with a plan without actually knowing what's going on." David said curtly, closing his eyes and leaning his elbow on the armrest. He said nothing more, both keeping in silence, until Rebecca nodded, acknowledging.

"Okay, I'm sorry," she said, slumping her shoulders.

"Don't be. I understand, it also irritates me to know that we should step aside and let the river flow. For now, we should focus on what we have at hand. Let's get to work then, shall we?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sherry was shaking uncontrollably, almost on the brink of convulsing. Trent had started a routine of ruthless experiments with her, and that day had just been the first of a period of unknown length. With remains of the G-virus still inside her body, she had been administered an amplification serum, a serum which would cause the G-virus to multiply and spread across her body quicker than the blink of an eye. At that rate and once the process was completed, she was lost.

Samantha knew it and, going by the looks of the sleeping girl, she didn't have much time left. She too had returned from another series of test a couple of hours after Sherry had, and she'd worried immensely about the Birkin girl. Samantha sighed, having been watching Sherry toss and turn for the last hour and feeling unable to help her. She didn't have superhuman strength, so she couldn't certainly smash the glass pane between them to go and be by her side, so she could just look and worry, witnessed as she fought in a battle she would very soon lose.

Samantha heard footsteps approaching, the echoing sounds reaching her keen ears, and she stood up promptly, trying to see who was coming. As expected, it was _him_: Albert Wesker in person. She felt unusually curious and unsettled: what would bring him there, down to the very depths of the 'underworld', as she called the cell zone? Most probably Sherry, Samantha knew, and as he silently walked past her, she met his hidden gaze.

"What's happened to Sherry?" she asked. He kept silent, gazing down at the blonde girl impassively. "Is the virus acting?"

"It's acting indeed, Samantha." He only answered.

Wesker and Samantha had formed a strong, permanence alliance against Trent and, although sometimes they couldn't cope well with the fact of relying on each other, Samantha had proven to be a reliable and valuable person. Their minds were quite alike, in thinking and acting ways, and they both had patience to boot. Out of the many people he'd encountered in his life, Albert thought she was something more than an asset to use for the execution of his plans. That, of course, excluded William.

Samantha broke the silence again, her blue eyes gleaming expectantly. "Will she die?"

Albert shook his head, slowly and pensively. "No. Have this in mind: the slower the turtle is, the more chances the hare will have to overtake it." His cryptic words earned him a snort from Samantha.

"Whatever you meant with that…" she sighed, giving up. "You know I don't like riddles, and you know my mind hasn't been up for that lately." There was bitterness in her words and an ironical meaning to 'lately': due to the constant experiments with her, her brain was losing its thinking and reasoning capabilities, having resulted in a gradual degeneration of both her abilities and the organ itself. Even Samantha knew it and, although she was desperate and enraged, she still clung on to life, refusing to let it slip from her fingers.

Much to her surprise and relief, Albert had been helping her since shortly after they had met, only two months and a half ago. He had concocted many types of serums that had palliated and delayed the viruses' effects, prolonging her life for an unknown period of time. Samantha had known very well it wasn't out of anything else but necessity: just like he had said:

"_You're still valuable, and the assets I find of much utility, I make good use of them."_

Samantha had at least agreed to his proposal, since it was much better that feeling her life slip away day by day and her body rotting and degenerating because of the experiments. Since that day on, they had both endured their suffering, but everything was worth it. Many were the times Albert had come down to the cell to exchange information, locking the door to the cell wing and disabling the security cameras; he had everything under control… as usual. Samantha admired and respected him, for he was a man whose plans and intentions were better off left untouched.

"Here, your daily dose." Samantha looked surprised after watching her companion slip a syringe out of his pocket and hand it to her. In spite of her relief, she pulled a face in disgust and pain, still acknowledging she'd have to receive yet another shot aside of the ten she received each day; sometimes, even more if the tests required it.

Samantha took it gratefully, carefully slipping her hand between the bars and glaring at the transparent liquid inside. Then, Albert took another one, this time empty.

"If you wake up at night, which will most likely happen, extract a blood sample," he explained succinctly, "The serums has a precocious effect and it will not take long to start countering the viruses and their effects. I will need to examine them if I'm to continue helping you."

Samantha scoffed, a sarcastic smile tugging at her cracked lips. "Rea-a-ally?" She gave a throaty laugh, but she turned serious again. "We might have formed an alliance, but you'll dispose of me when I'm of no further use to you."

"Oh? And what makes you think I will do that?" he inquired, impassively amused. "After all, you're valuable to my plans as--"

"There we go again…" sighed Samantha, looking away, but Albert was left unfazed by her interruption.

"--As I am to _yours_. Didn't you say you weren't willing to let life escape you whilst you still could? Think, Samantha: it's a mutual benefit, in more ways than one. Right now, I need your cooperation."

"I know," she said, "But can't you really be, or at least seem a little bit more friendly? I'd have less difficulty to trust you, you know."

Albert's voice turned harder than steel and, if looks could kill, Samantha would already be lying on the cold floor. "Human feelings are only dampers. They cloud your judgement and lead you to take false and wrong steps, unless I'm much mistaken."

Samantha was left speechless but she didn't show any kind of surprise. He had settled it, and raising her voice again would do no good. In spite of that, she did. "You speak as if you weren't human."

"Allow me to tell you…" he started, and Samantha could mildly notice a change in his tones, "I'm as human as you are, Samantha."

"Tch, I'm not human anymore… and the same applies to you, I assume?" she asked, propping herself against the wall.

"Exactly, my girl."

Samantha shrugged. "I don't really know what lead you to reach that conclusion about feelings. It's… odd."

"It might be, and it's certainly is a matter I didn't come here to discuss," he retorted curtly. Turning and taking his leave, he lastly said, "I'll be back after the next test." His cold tones made Samantha shiver and she dropped to the floor, grasping both syringes tightly in her hand.

_Human emotions are part of a person's soul… Happiness, sadness, joy, sorrow; you can't live without them. You'd be just a heartless doll, like an image which doesn't show any reflection before a mirror. It only makes me think he had a hard life, too hard for me to understand. I can't imagine how he's endured, but what if he was just like that from the beginning? Was he like that, or does he still have a hidden side he won't show?_

_

* * *

_

A/N: Few details on this one:

1) Plaza Azul and Stretton are both fictional places. I've situated Stretton in Florida, near the Atlantic coast, and Plaza Azul in Argentina, near La Plata.  
2) The A3 Ashton talks about is the M40 sniper rifle (one of my personal favourites along the PSG-1) A3 model. I've allowed myself a bit of fictional creativity: it accepts both soporific bullets and normal ones (the soporific bullets are NOT compatible in reality).  
3) Jason and Leon will be interacting with each other continuedly throughout the story, mostly because of the mystery surrounding Jason's name. Beware, he is by NO means a Gary Stu type of character, nor are the other members of the team. Their personalities, as everybody's, have their flaws, so don't fret: you won't encounter any Gary Stu's here.  
4) Last but not least, I had planned this scenario according to Darkside Chronicles. My feeling was that Leon was sent (either alone or with a team) to South America to fight against a virus (either T or G) so I planned this situation from the start. But, seeing that now it's Leon and Krauser together, my scenario is not much cannon. The story isn't anyway, but jut to make some points clear.


	12. Chapter Twelve: Attempt

**Author's Note:** Another update, finally! And the first one of the year! Oh, speaking of which, happy New Year, people! I hope everything's alright and that you start the year off the right foot! I certainly have, after having been sick the whole day, but 'tis alright. Okay, I leave you with another chapter of this story; don't fret, this still has a good way to go. It might possibly reach the twenty if I do it correctly. I hope you like this one, enjoy!

**Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil or any of its characters, only my OCs**

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12

Attempt

He had been in the dark for only God knew how long and he hadn't moved a single inch, his head limp and gaze blank. He had racked his brains to find out a way to escape, a secret passage, a diversion, everything… but nothing would've worked, nothing at all. He even had fallen asleep for a few minutes, which had served him to alleviate his aching head and to calm himself. Being in the dark, literally and figuratively, was horrible.

Since he had arrived there and had been locked up, he had received no news from either Annette or Sherry, although he didn't expect Sherry was safe. If these people wanted Sherry, it was for a reason and one reason only: Gene. The G-virus in her body was a very treasured jewel and even though this company wasn't Umbrella, it didn't matter: they were the same selfish bastards as Spencer's company, from the first to the last one of them.

Surprisingly, Wesker had visited him a scant number of times, only to drop hints William still couldn't understand. Wesker hadn't entered, instead staying outside, but the conversations had somehow kept William from going mad. _Not that much, but still being here is killing me_, he thought, giving less importance to the matter. It was true though: being alone, secluded from the rest of the world and having been beaten more than a few times weren't exactly positive things.

Raking both hands through his hair, he sighed, trying to shake off some numbness from his limbs. In the process, he heard steps closing in and his head perked up, relieved and in dread at the same time. He caught a glimpse of a blonde person, most likely a woman, and then another one by her side, this time a male. The hunch William had next was huge.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked softly and in spite of the low tone of her voice, William could recognize it, trepidation and hope coursing his body.

_It's her, it's Annette! Then, the other one is…_

Slowly, William stood up, nervous, and then both people entered his cell. In disbelief, the Birkin stared at his companions. One of them was Annette, who didn't hesitate to fling her arms around William's neck when she saw him. Good news.

"Thank God you're alright!" she exclaimed. With a smile that he erased, William didn't respond but fixed his gaze upon the other person who had entered. Annette also looked at him, watching them stare at each other serenely.

"Wesker… Why?" he then asked, his brow creasing. Wesker's expression remained impassive and he was as silent as a tomb. "You're not going to breathe out a single word? I think I deserve--"

"We both deserve an explanation; I need yours." Wesker interrupted, not brusquely. "For the moment, let's focus our attention on what we have a hand, shall we? Follow my instructions and you'll get out of here, safely, along with your daughter."

"How is she?" asked Annette, giving one step forward.

"With all honesty, she's not faring so well." He replied firmly. "The scientists have focused entirely on developing a serum that, when injected, it makes the virus multiply and spread throughout the body in less than a minute." William was floored.

"How many doses has she been injected so far?" he asked urgently.

"Three. She'll be taking the fourth within the next twenty minutes." Wesker replied, deadpan.

"Goddamit, they're going to kill her if they keep that up! Those ignorant fools…" William cursed, lowering his head.

"I guarantee that won't happen. After all, I didn't bring Annette here for nothing, did I now?" The Birkins stared at Wesker, who approached them with a map in hand. When they examined it, they noticed it showed the main floor of the facility. "Right now, we're in the subbasement, two floors under this main floor. The eastern stairs lead directly to the basement and then to the uppermost floor, next to the conference room, and these western stairs lead to the other wing of the containment area. You're going to take the eastern way and you'll wait for me in the basement; if you see anybody coming, hide in the first door on the left: it's full of boxes, so you won't have any problems hiding. In any case, you can lock in from the inside."

"What about you?" asked William, and Wesker pointed at the western stairs.

"I'll take that way and bring Sherry with me." He explained carefully. "This mightn't be necessary but if I haven't returned in seven minutes, go to the room I indicated and _don't_ leave your position. If you do, this will be all for nothing, understood?"

"It's a worst-case scenario though…" William muttered, dropping a hint Wesker immediately caught.

"You certainly don't want to tempt luck. I suggest we start moving." He shot back. William frowned and stopped him.

"Wait, isn't there a security system here? The cameras won't leave us out of their sight and there must be somebody in the control room."

"_Of course_ there is somebody in that room, a certain person which has taken care of everything for me, so our escapade is safe." Wesker explained matter-of-factly. "Trent isn't here for the moment but he'll return soon, so we have limited time to do this. Let's go."

Exiting the cell and making sure nobody was around there, the trio parted ways, ready to make their escape. As he and Annette ran east, William looked back, only to find Wesker disappearing down the hall in the opposite direction. A wave of relief, adrenaline and nervousness washed over him as Albert took a right and got out of their sights.

"William?" called Annette, concerned. Knowing he had to keep moving, he reacted and continued to run alongside his wife.

_I just hope he's serious about this._

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

They had gone through hell, quite literally, to keep their heads on their shoulders.

Upon the team's arrival to Plaza Azul, a day and a half ago, they had found themselves surrounded by T-virus infected zombies and creatures which hadn't hesitated to kill them. The reek of rotten and decayed flesh was heavy in the air and the wails and moans of the zombies were only heartbreaking and fear-inducing songs of death constantly ringing in their ears. Seemingly, there was no-one who had escaped the virus's deadly reach: everyone was as good as dead.

In spite of having faced the same thing only a month ago, Leon was having a terrible time fighting them off. In Raccoon City, the number was 100,000 but this time, it was a hundred thousand more. Hordes of zombies were constant and terribly persistent, and they had caused almost all of them to waste more bullets than expected; in fact, Alan and Ashton had left their M16s dry and they were only using guns. Ashton's grenades had helped quite a lot with the hungry hordes but they were all in a precarious situation, despite Leon's constant advice. Shooting them in the head didn't always work when you had another dozen around you and trying to claw at your face to kill you.

Miraculously, nobody was dead. They were screwed, as Ashton had said, but not dead. They had found shelter in an old shack on the outskirts of the dead village, relatively safe from zombie attacks and rampages. Jason was currently keeping watch next to the door, awake as an owl in the middle of the night, ready for a hunt. He looked over the team and found Hugh and Ashton ready to fall asleep, and Alan had already done so. Jason had in mind Alan was known for his light sleep, so it only took a whisper of the wind to wake him up; about Hugh and Ashton, he wasn't so sure.

Surprisingly enough for him, Leon was the only one with his eyes still open. Jason could tell it was tension and anxiety what kept him awake, constantly going over Hugh's map to find a route that would lead them to Oliveira.

No, they still hadn't found him.

And they were alone.

They had everything figured out. Why would Jackson abandon them to their luck? Why wouldn't he respond to their calls for support? Somebody had had something to do with that mission, because it was all a ruse, it was a _lie_. They were almost sure Oliveira had nothing to do with that virus outbreak, that he was only a scapegoat for Umbrella's failure to contain whatever viral agents they had there. For now, only the T-virus had shown up.

"I can't figure anything out…" Jason heard Leon mutter under his breath. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, and left the map aside, frustrated.

"Maybe there's nothing to figure out." Intervened Jason, shaking his head. "Maybe we already have all the pieces we need, but we're unable to piece them together… yet."

"You might be right…" Leon nodded, turning his grey gaze away. The next change in his demeanour was something Jason caught immediately and switching to a more comfortable position, he asked him about it.

"There's something else that's bothering you, correct?"

"There is." Leon replied. Jason smirked.

"I knew it, and I have a slight idea of what that is." He said with a shrug.

"Oh, really? Since when?" Leon asked, somehow amused.

"Since all of this started." Jason stated simply. "I've noticed how everything within this team has changed. In the beginning, Alan was the foundations of this team -so to speak- and we came afterwards. It's all like a building's structure but now that you've came along, it's all spun around. We're all expecting that _you_ can help us get out of here, and we're strongly relying on you. You've faced this kind of thing before so there's nothing much you can do about it."

"You're right." Leon agreed. "And I have the feeling I'm doing a shitty job helping you guys out."

"You're not the Jonah of the boat, let me tell you that." Jason sighed. "It's happened to all of us, and I've seen a lot."

"How long have you been with Alan?" asked Leon.

"Hm… probably since the very beginning." Jason replied after thinking for a few seconds. "Ashton and Hugh came later, even if Ash had been working with the government since he was young. His parents also worked with the government, US SOCOM and Secret Service… and no, it wasn't his father who was in the SO Command."

"It was his _mother_?"

"Yeah, surprising, eh?" Jason smiled faintly. "Well, I'm not one to talk about him; he should tell you about himself. Tell me, what's your story? You've never said anything about it."

"There's not much to tell; you already know a huge part of it." Leon shrugged, tucking his legs in. "But if you're interested, I might as well tell you. After graduating from university, I applied to the police academy and became an officer of the SPF, the 'Select Police Force'."

"Sounds like you were elite." Jason remarked, amused.

"I was, but that didn't help me to make my way out of Raccoon City on September." Leon said bitterly. "It was my first and only day as a police officer, and it was pure chance that I wasn't in the city when the zombies overtook the city."

"What happened?" To Jason's surprise, Leon smiled.

"I overslept." He said funnily.

"You're kiddin'." Jason shook his head, blinking a few times before digesting Leon's words. "And here I thought you were the early-riser type. I don't enjoy disappointment."

"Believe me, it's all true." Leon spread his hands. "That's how I ended here; after surviving, I was offered a position in this team and here I am… trying to make myself useful." He looked at Jason. "Now it's your turn."

"Mind if I skip a few details? There are some things I don't want to remember."

"I'm not forcing you to tell me _everything_." Replied Leon in defence.

"Well, I--"

Jason couldn't continue speaking.

Something came crashing down the roof with a deafening sound and in the middle of the cloud of dust and wood pieces, Jason could see what the crashing object -the crashing _person_ was. The others woke up immediately, only to find themselves staring at it with nothing else than fear in their faces.

Then, a chilling yell in pain, a _human_ yell. It had been Leon.

A horribly big foot was stepping cruelly on his right shoulder, which Jason could see it had been completely dislocated. And then, it started bleeding.

"Leon!!" shouted Hugh. His instincts told him to shoot the monster's head, and so he did: picking up his shotgun, he fired, and it actually made the monster turn around and notice them, leaving Leon trying to cope with the pain on the floor. Jason immediately went to his aid, only to find gashes on his injured shoulder: the fragmented bones had pierced through his flesh.

"Alan, Leon's injured! You have to take that thing out of here!!"

"Are you out of your mind?!" he shouted back. "We can't kill this thing, it's huge!"

"Then… then run away!" Leon intervened this time, attempting to sit up. "You have to run, go!"

"We can't leave you here!!" exclaimed Ashton, but his words were drowned by the deathly sound of the wood above their heads being slashed into tiny pieces.

"Then decide already, for chrissake, but do it quickly!!" said Jason as he quickly took care of Leon. "Fuck it, this is too precarious to treat it here."

"I can… I can hold on, Jason." Leon was panting, his hand full of blood as he tried to keep the wound from bleeding. "We… we have to go." Immediately, Jason helped him up, swinging Leon's good arm over his shoulders, and then made a tourniquet around his injured shoulder with the string of his rifle.

"Come on." Jason, as they followed the others, was about to break down. "What the hell is that?!" For once, Jason lost his usual cool and his face contorted with fear. Leon wasted no time on explanations; their lives were depending on their legs and how well and how much they would use them.

"I'll explain later, get a move on! Leg it, Jason, hurry! We have to find the others!"

_Boom!_

They turned their heads in the explosion's direction, and they found Ashton and Alan running towards them as fast as they could, completely disarmed save for Ashton's grenades.

"People, we have to hide or we're dead!" exclaimed Alan, speaking as coherently as he was able to.

"What the hell's going on, Leon?!" inquired Ashton, hysteric.

"Where's Hugh?" asked Jason, butting in.

"He's dead, goddamit! This freak killed him in just a goddamed blow!" Ashton replied, his voice quivering. Then, his face went white when he gazed up to the roof of the house in front of them. "It's here!"

Everyone turned around, only to discover a Tyrant of massive height gazing down at them, its claws gleaming with killing intent and Hugh's blood. The group, who was new to that kind of enemies, was floored and left in utter shock, trepidation and genuine fear coursing through their veins. To make matters worse, they didn't have much to kill it.

"For fuck's sake, what's going on here?!" cursed Ashton. "Why would they release such a monster like this one here?! It's freaking unbelievable!"

"Be careful, keep your distance!" shouted Alan. The team backed away from the Tyrant, which looked down, identifying them one by one. "Don't move or run or we're done for!" With the creature standing over eight feet in height, nobody could keep their fear from showing. In this, Ashton took the prize.

"Then what do we do?! Do we say hello?!" he exclaimed, his voice quaking. "If you have a death wish, go ahead!"

Then, the Tyrant finally stopped its gaze on Leon, who felt everything piecing itself together.

_God, now I know who this one looks like! It's like the one in Raccoon City!_

The Tyrant growled and dashed towards him, talons high and ready to strike.

"Move!" he shouted. Everyone quickly did as he told and the Tyrant missed for a few inches, but it soon counter-attacked and kept sweeping its claws at Leon and, by extension, Jason.

"We have to run! We don't stand a chance against a thing like this!"

"Let's not waste any more time! Leg it, people, come on!" ordered Alan, agreeing. The team retreated, sheltering themselves as they went through the backstreets. Even though they were narrow, Leon knew that wouldn't stop the Tyrant from coming; its jumps were inhuman and it could very well avoid the buildings with just a thrust of its legs.

They could hear it coming; its footsteps were loud, as if it was walking right beside them, like drums against their ears. Try as they might, they encountered the Tyrant a few times during their escapade, only to turn and retrace their steps.

"It's trying to corner us! Sooner or later it's going to kill us!" exclaimed Jason, pitching his voice as low as he could. Leon knew they were relying on him and not Alan this time, since it was _him_ who had faced that kind of monster before. Jason was almost scrutinizing him, begging for an answer with just his gaze.

_Good God, what to do now? We're at a complete disadvantage here; we don't have __enough to make it even flinch! I have to think quickly, there must be something we can use, around here or something we have…_

Leon calmed down, his brain working slowly but surely.

"Wait, I can't hear anything…" whispered Alan.

Then, a powerful _boom_, a roar and the sound of something heavy falling to the ground.

The agents were mute and still in their spot, until a series of flashlights were pointed at them. Blinded by the light, they protected their eyes, Ashton being the first to recover from the burst of light. When he looked in front of them, his eyes widened.

"It can't be!"

The others also looked at their saviour, and they recognized him instantly. It was the person they'd been looking for.

Carlos Oliveira.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Samantha, are you there?"

Wesker had almost arrived to Sherry's cell, finding himself less than thirty metres away from it. He stopped to ask Samantha about the state of things, lest he was discovered, and that wouldn't prove helpful.

"_Yeah, I'm here. What is it?"_ she replied, her voice tired on the other side of the radio.

"What's the situation?"

"_Nothing's changed yet; you're doing fine. Trent still hasn't returned, so you still have time. I can see the Birkins in their place, nothing wrong with them."_ Then, he heard her gasp. _"Things are getting bad, Wesker! The doctors are coming to get Sherry! You have less than five minutes to get out of there, hurry up!"_

Wesker wasted no time. He hurried down the hall, this time running as fast as he could, only for a realization to harshly dawn upon him as he looked inside the cell.

Sherry was gone.

Then, he heard the _whoosh_ of something coming down on him and Wesker quickly moved aside. It was Sherry, who was wielding an iron pipe as a weapon. She stumbled to the floor, almost about to attack again, but Wesker knocked the pipe out of her hands and hauled her to her feet.

"What do you want now?" asked Sherry, upset.

"_Wesker, come on! They'll be there at any minute!"_ warned Samantha.

"I'm getting you out of here. Now let's go; we're short on time." He said succinctly. Sherry was left wide-eyed, but there was no time to be surprised. Catching the order he gave her with one of his glances, she followed after him, clutching the pipe more firmly than before.

Too bad they walked into the doctors, who immediately figured out their intentions.

"They're trying to escape!" one of them exclaimed. Sherry gasped, almost terrified at the sight of the syringes, and Wesker's brow creased ever so slightly. At a breakneck speed, he took out his concealed gun and fired, disposing of the trio of scientists with only a single bullet to their heads. It didn't matter: dead or not, witnesses or not, Trent would indeed figure out eventually… if he didn't know yet.

That's why Wesker had already made plans to leave. And this was his last time he'd step foot into that building or would ever hear about Trent.

With the scientists killed, he and Sherry were on the move again, going past William's cell and taking the same way he had. Sherry couldn't help voicing out a question that half-caught Wesker unawares.

"Why are you doing this? Why are you saving me when it was you who kidnapped me in the first place?" Her voice, although still a child's, was strong and demanding, and Wesker knew that if no answer was given, she'd continue insisting.

"I'll let you figure it out when we reach William."

Sherry's eyes lightened up. "Dad? He's okay?!" Even though she received no response, she felt her energies renewed. They went up the set of stairs up to the basement and there, in the landing of the staircase, Sherry found William and Annette.

"Sherry?!" Annette exclaimed once she noticed her.

"Mom, you're okay!" her daughter said, running towards her parents. "Dad, you're safe too!"

"Sherry, thank goodness you're alright!" Annette hugged her daughter, lifting her up in her arms. Sherry couldn't be happier and she took William's hand with strength. She made him smile.

"I'm sorry to ruin the moment, but I believe your place is here."

Behind his shades, Wesker's eyes widened and he was inadvertently startled. He knew that voice, and he turned around, only to find a gun's muzzle centimetres away from his head and another one trained on the Birkins. The stranger had an impassive expression in spite of his words.

Trent, otherwise known as Victor Darius, was holding them at gunpoint.

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_A/N: Uh-oh, things aren't looking too good. This is why I told you it'd take me a little longer to finish this story; there are still more things coming. In the next chapter, as a small preview, you'll be learning of Jason's past and, finally, why he keps his surname a secret to Leon. Stay tuned! Chapter Thirteen coming up next week!_

_Reviews are appreciated!^^  
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	13. Chapter Thirteen: Everything ends

**Author's Note:** Yay! I'm quick on updates now. I said the next would come next week but it actually came much sooner than I expected. I just can't stop posting now, I'm on a roll! I've regained my inspiration for this story and I'm **not** going to waste it, so I guess you can cope with fast updates, right? xDDDDD Anywho, in this one, I'm afraid, things get worse. Enjoy though! xD

**Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil or any of its characters, only my OCs.**

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13

Everything end, everything begins

"_It can't be!"_

_The others also looked at their saviour, and they recognized him instantly. It was the person they'd been looking for._

_It was Carlos Oliveira._

The team, as well as Carlos, stared silently at each other, eyeing the Hispanic man with care. If the information was true, Carlos was there to kill them -if things didn't get any worse, of course. In spite of that, they wanted to believe it had been him who had saved them from the Tyrant, having blow it to pieces if God existed, but who or what guaranteed it had been a plan within a plan? Right now, the only thing Leon and co. could do was to pray and hope they would get out of it alive.

"Ha! We finally found you guys." Carlos said, strangely light-hearted. "We've been looking all over the place since the day before yesterday."

"So it's been an useless chase, after all." Alan mused, sighing. "As you can see, we're defenceless and we have an injured member." Carlos looked surprised.

"They actually didn't tell you?" he asked, almost in disbelief. Leon frowned.

"And what should we have been told?" he asked back, the adrenaline being the only thing that was keeping him from collapsing. He had lost a lot of blood and he felt light-headed. Surprisingly for them, Carlos shook his head with a sigh, almost as if accepting the blame of their ignorance.

"Come with us; we should talk about it somewhere else, ¿va?" Then, he seemed to remember something. "Oh, and pick up your remaining equipment; we have free stock. You won't last long with what you have left." Still distrustful, the team hesitated at first but they could see Carlos wasn't going to backstab them.

They trotted up the hill, heading for the remains of the shack where they had stayed and they collected the weapons they could, which were Alan's, Leon's and Jason's guns and last but not least, Hugh's shotgun. In those moments that passed, Leon and the others could see another facet of Ashton's personality which he had kept hidden since, as it transpired, his arrival to the team: he looked broken-hearted and about to cry, but with only a lower of his head he hid his face from the rest of the people.

"I still don't trust this guy." He said, his voice trembling. "If he's responsible of that freak's release, then I'm not going." Alan's face dropped in dismay.

"What are you saying? Ashton, be reasonable, he's going to help us!"

"Well I'm not accepting his help."

"We don't know if that monster's appearance was his fault, Ash." Intervened Jason, his low voice soothing his nerves. "Hugh is dead, yeah, but that thing is too."

"You know we couldn't do anything against it, Ashton; look how it left Leon." Alan continued. "If it weren't for his obvious luck, he would be dead as of now."

"But he'd still be alive…"

Alan couldn't take it anymore. "And you're gonna place Hugh over Leon?! We all have the same right to live, whether you like the guy or not, you got that?! I won't accept that, Ashton, so take it back right this instant, ya hear me?"

"Alan, it's fine, there's no need for this." Leon cut through Alan's scolding raising a hand. Then, he addressed Ashton. "Hey, if you want me to apologize, I'm sorry. I didn't know this would happen; Hugh didn't either. But as Alan has just said, be reasonable and think: did you really think you could've protected him from that Tyrant? You are experienced men, but experience didn't save Hugh. It's no-one's fault, Ashton, and you know that."

"Actually, it's someone's fault." The auburn-haired hissed, shooting a deadly glance at Jason. "And he already knows whose." Jason stared back, pressing his lips together as if to avoid bursting out at his companion.

"Jason?"

"Hey, if you're going to come, you'd better hurry!" called Carlos from down the hill and waving a hand. Jason sighed, turning his head away, and headed down to Carlos's position.

"Let's go; haste makes waste."

The team could clearly see he was upset by Ashton's words, and there was another piece Leon felt he had obtained but still couldn't piece together with the rest. That _someone_ Ashton had mentioned… was he related to Jason in some way?

Once they had reunited with Carlos, he took the lead and started their trek until they were stopped by a familiar snarl and thumping footsteps approaching: once again, the Tyrant had risen and was closing in with great strides, like a bull ramming its matador.

"¡Joder! We have to corner it, and I know the right place!" Carlos told them. "Come on!" They ran away from the monster, using their legs to the extreme, but Leon noticed someone was missing: Ashton had stayed behind. He stopped dead in his tracks, and called for him.

"Ashton, what are you doing?! Come on!" But Ashton shook his head.

"I'm taking care of this thing!" Quickly, just as the Tyrant was closing in on him, Ashton took instinctive aim and fired the shotgun with only one hand, hitting its head by sheer chance. He reloaded, leaving the Tyrant to whimper and clutch its face due to its numerous wounds, and looked at Leon again. The gleam in his blue eyes was a killer's, dangerous and fierce.

"He's crazy!" exclaimed Jason. "Ash, come back! Don't be an idiot!" Ashton's decision had left them devastated. "Not another one of us, please!"

Ashton smirked, and then his expression was one of pain. He was horrified to see the Tyrant's talons had pierced his stomach from side to side and his wounds were spewing blood without control. Jason and Alan felt their hearts sink to their feet, heavy with dismay and horror.

"It's… too late now… Get the hell out of… here, dammit!" Ashton managed to breathe out, his mouth flooded with blood he soon allowed to flow out. With one last rough and ginger movement, he plucked out two grenades from his belt and bit the catch off. Seeing what he was doing, Jason snapped out of his reverie and urged Alan and the others to go.

"Alan, come on! We can't do anything now, we have to go!"

But Alan refused to accept Ashton's death. He was rooted in place, staring at what his fallen partner was about to do. With his mind spinning, he felt someone yank him by the wrist and he started running inadvertently, without actually wanting to. Then, they were out of the Tyrant's range.

Ashton used his last strengths to smirk and glare fiercely at the Tyrant.

"You're going to Hell, you son of a bitch… Don't expect me to meet ya- anywhere else!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The explosion that ensued shattered Alan's heart. Now he knew Ashton was as good as gone, never to return again.

"ASHTON!!"

He screamed his name hopelessly, watching the cloud of smoke climb up into the air and some kind of liquid raining down. By some reason, he felt glad to know it was the Tyrant's blood: Ashton's grenades were deadly, and with their explosive power they could blow up almost everything. Miraculously, the Tyrant had been no exception.

"Alan, we have to keep going." Alan was startled as he felt a hand upon his shoulder. He found out it was Leon, who was serene in spite of the sorrow his eyes harboured. Feeling defeated, Alan nodded slowly and continued after his comrades.

Never a partner's death had felt so horribly painful.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"_I'm sorry to ruin the moment, but I believe your place is here." _

_Behind his shades, Wesker's eyes widened and he was inadvertently startled. He knew that voice, and he turned around, only to find a gun's muzzle centimetres away from his head and another one trained on the Birkins. The stranger had an impassive expression in spite of his words._

_Trent, otherwise known as Victor Darius, was holding them at gunpoint. _

Sherry stared wide-eyed at Trent, the person whom she remembered to have 'taken care' of her whilst she had been imprisoned. Many times she'd caught sight of him in the labs and the different rooms where scientists had experimented with the G-virus within her, and those many times Sherry had seen an astoundingly impassive yet confident expression across his features, like he had everything under control from the beginning. Sherry hadn't been proved wrong: Trent had also known of their escape attempt.

Clinging closer to her mother, she felt herself unable to tear her eyes away from him, the tension and the utter panic she felt escalating to unbearable levels… and it was starting to take its toll on her. Annette's hand on her hair was nothing far from unsettling, because she knew something would go horribly wrong in spite of having in mind her parents would do anything to get her out of there. Questions were, would they really do that? And _what_ would they do?

Trent allowed a matter-of-fact lift of his eyebrows and he tilted his head. "You must've been waiting for Samantha to tell you something about my return, correct?" he told Wesker, who didn't move a single inch. 'What have you done to her?' was something he would've liked to ask Trent but that would just be self-humiliation.

But he had to ask himself, hadn't he done that already? Helping William was proof of their friendship and to others' eyes, something like that didn't exist for Albert Wesker. But in fact, they were all wrong, and humiliation had finally come.

Now was not the time to think about that; he had to protect the Birkins. Protect? Well, what word to use that didn't have a similar meaning? One false movement and with Trent's formidable speed with firearms, they wouldn't last alive more than two seconds and it would be even worse if he had brought somebody along with him that was watching from somewhere else. Deciding to focus on that particular matter, he quickly looked around for someone else and indeed he found a person standing on the lower stairs, right behind the Birkins' back; shadows were always a useful resource to use.

What else? Trent had two guns, each one trained on him and the Birkins, but Wesker had his speed, far superior to Trent's or any other human being's. In spite of that, Trent only had to move a finger, which would take him much less time than it would take Wesker to move, since there were still facets of his new powers he yet needed to master. And this time it was not only his own life which was in danger: there were _three_ other people with him.

"I want everyone to be left unscathed," Trent started, "So I believe we could reach an agreement before things took the wrong turn. As such, I recommend you drop your gun, Mr. Wesker." Not without showing certain hesitation, Wesker dropped the gun in his hand and it clanked down the stairs to stop against another landing. "I just want the girl." Trent then stated naturally, and William took the initiative.

"You don't know what you're doing." He said, placing half of his body in front of Annette and Sherry. "If you keep your experiments up, you're going to kill her and believe me, that way she'll be of no use to you!" Trent allowed himself a faint smirk.

"Contrary to your beliefs, she _would_ be useful." He added as naturally as before, and William's face fell with dismay.

"What?!"

"But that certainly isn't the matter being discussed here and it's not advisable for me to reveal my plans right now since it's none of your concern." Trent continued as if nothing. Then, he addressed Wesker. "If you want me to keep them alive, I suggest you don't do anything stupid. I can quite see they mean something to you, so I suppose it's in your best interest that they stay alive, yes? And no," he added, "There's nothing you can do."

"Are you that sure?" Wesker wasn't one to taunt, but it was all part of the big picture, as uncharacteristic as it seemed. Trent smirked.

"Well, I am confident of my abilities, thank you very much. And are you that sure you can _really_ do something for them?" he asked back, putting an emphasis on 'really'. God, wasn't Wesker tempted to smirk… He had to hold it back, though, but things were going nicely.

_Why yes of course, there _is_ something I'm still able to do. _

William felt his heart sink: what would they do now? With two guns -yet unbeknownst to him, three- trained on them and a man capable of whatever God had granted him powers for, what was left for them to do? They couldn't escape; the door would take far too long to open in time to run away and it was a dead end where they were; they certainly couldn't jump down the stairs.

Then came the harsh realization: as Wesker approached Annette, ready to take Sherry, William instantly knew he wasn't on their side, that it had all been a plan within another plan. _God, no! It can't be! Not again!_ Then, he could see everything unfold slowly: Wesker yanked Sherry from Annette's arms, the girl instinctively hugging his neck to avoid falling, and as he turned around, William saw _another_ gun in his hand. Using the commotion to an advantage, Wesker cocked the gun and fired twice before anyone had a chance of doing something else.

"Stay low and run!" Wesker shouted. The bullets hit Trent square in his shoulder and as he lost balance and almost rolled down the stairs, the Birkins and Wesker were already making their escape through the door.

Then, another crack of fire and this time, it hadn't been Wesker's gun or Trent who had been hit, but William.

Before leaving after Annette, the other person behind them had been lucky enough only to fire and hit William, but the blow had been almost fatal: the bullet had punctured his left lung, missing the heart by only mere centimetres, but the force of the impact had literally pushed him to the hall's floor.

"Dad!" Sherry freed herself from Wesker's grip quicker than he expected and she ran towards an injured William, whose clothes were completely stained crimson due to the gaping bullet wound in his back. And to Sherry's horror, he had almost stopped breathing.

"Dad, come on! You can't die now, we have to get you out of here!" she exclaimed as she desperately tried to lift him up. Annette came to her aid, fear taking over her as she saw how close William was to death, and they almost panicked when they saw him cough up all the blood that had flooded his chest and made his breathing almost impossible. In only seconds, he had turned from person to more like a ghost due to the excessive pallor of his skin.

Once he controlled his racking cough, much to their surprise, he smiled. "I'm… I'm okay, it's… it's already starting to close now." Wesker also felt relieved, but it instantly clicked: both he and William had been careless, and they would pay for their mistake.

William's wounds had healed but at an expensive cost, a _hellishly_ expensive cost; it was more than he had ever expected. Suddenly, he felt a ticklish sensation course through his body that then transformed into a raging fire that started consuming him from the inside. William suddenly felt weak and once again fell to his knees, unable to stay standing. Then, every single wound his body had borne with opened again, sending searing pain throughout it in less than a millisecond. They didn't bleed, and Wesker understood why.

For William, it all made sense mere instants later once Annette screamed his name. It was a scream in horror and despair, and the burning headache that assailed his head made the realization sink in even deeper. He felt Annette about to grasp his arm, but he slapped her hand away with his own expression of horror. Unable to hold it, William screamed in agony.

For it was all about to start again; history would repeat itself.

Sherry could do nothing but stare at her father, knowing that, if things were to take that turn, her fate wouldn't be much different from his. She hadn't had to witness what happened last time, but now it was much more different, much more horrible. She couldn't help it: Sherry started crying again, desiring to go to his aid and help him, but there was not much she could do.

The pain in William's body didn't cease to burn, but they could see his eyes flutter: he was about to fall into unconsciousness. And if that happened, it would prove disastrous… even much more if Trent, who had made his way to the hall, made the bullet he had ready hit its target: William's head.

"Oh no, you're not!"

Annette and Sherry were surprised to see it had been Wesker's voice, and he had deftly and quickly immobilized Trent with a successful armlock. It was only momentary, since Trent was also a skilled man and broke free of Wesker's grip with relative ease, sending him to the floor next to him with one swift low kick. Falling onto his back, Wesker then had full sight of his next target, which was Trent's face, and swung his foot to one side, strongly landing the blow.

_Damn it, William's only going to get worse!_

"Don't you dare lose consciousness now! You have to hold on!" he shouted at William, hoping he was still aware enough to hear him… but he didn't. Instead, his eyes closed fully.

Much to his surprise, Wesker could feel his own heart sinking. In the moments in which Trent turned his face away, Wesker stood up and ran as fast as his legs allowed him towards William, whom he could see was already falling down.

_"I'm a man of my word, and I suppose I owe you one this time..."_

Wesker could feel everything he'd bottled up finally escape its chains, and it was fear and concern that led him to scream his friend's name once more.

"William!!"

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_A/N: And yeah! As you can see, I'm focusing once again in exploring our Dynamic Duo's characters. God, they're such a pleasure to develop; no, they're certainly amazing. Let me tell you that if it weren't for their predestined personalities created by Capcom, the typical Albert and William would be no more: they're such a pair of versatile individuals! Their personalities could be swapped and developed every way possible -although it wouldn't be good to see not Albert or William as a mindless sadist xDDDDD Anyway, I'm ranting here but consider this possibility; it's just sooo very plausible!_

_Let me tell you, next fic I'm going to write will be another one focused around them... please, do not think it'll be any kind of romance or anything; my fics are only for development purposes only (LOL!). Ah, it's a deffo: expect to see it after I finish this one!_

_Reviews are appreciated!^^_

_PD: Several things have changed and what I had planned for this chapter will have to wait for the next. I hope you don't mind! ;)  
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	14. Chapter Fourteen: All For Nothing

**Author's Note: **Well, another update here. It's been dreadfully long since I last submitted one; I apologize, but the lack of time deprived me of writing. But anyway, here it is. Nothing much happens... kiddin', there's a lot of things here in one same scenario. Things aren't going to be good, I assure you. Enjoy the read!^^

**Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil or any of its characters.**

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14

All For Nothing

Wesker didn't know what had hit him, and that was surprising until he realized what was happening.

He was sent a good distance away from William after receiving one of the strongest kicks he'd ever felt, and the strength William now possessed was clearly inhuman. As he swiftly recovered in spite of feeling a raging pain in his chest, he looked at William, whom he saw breathing heavily, with difficulty, and trying to stand up without losing his balance. Then he yelled again, clutching his head between his hands and slamming his right shoulder against the wall in an attempt to palliate his pain.

Looking up, he found Annette staring in horror at him with Sherry behind her back. It was heartbreaking… to know that even your own daughter can be scared of you.

"Get… Get away…" With each passing moment, William found it more difficult to speak. He couldn't stand, he couldn't walk… not in his actual form. He was doing his best to keep his constant changing under control until there came moment when his whole body seared with pain, pain like fire of the deepest of the pits of Hell. He wouldn't resist for long; it was torture. When he felt something warm slide down his arm, he found it soaked in blood, even though it had been painless. A huge gash was opening, and they all knew very well why.

"Oh, God! William!" Annette was on the verge of breaking down, watching everything William was going through. The saddest part of it was she couldn't do anything about it: she had no vaccine, no _nothing_ to make it stop. In moments, William would just become another mindless killing machine should nothing be done to prevent it.

Instantly, they saw William fall to the ground quickly with a loud _oof_, his arms pinned behind his back, and Wesker kneeling on top of him, syringe in hand. With a quick movement, Wesker dug the needle into his neck, rushing its contents into his bloodstream. For an instant, William grew stiff as he winced, but then he struck Wesker with renewed force and vigour, hard enough to release himself from his grip and crawl from under Wesker's body. With all the force he could muster, his leg connected with Wesker's hands, which had blocked the blow that would've certainly broken more than his nose. Without a moment's hesitation and striking from his side, William was about to kick Wesker when another bolt of agony struck his body and he cried in pain, the cry one of a monster similar to the one that was taking control of him.

Sherry sprung into action. Since the moment Trent's gun had been knocked out of his hand, she had been hatching plans to help her father and put an end to all this -if God wanted and she proved to be skilled enough. She had found an advantage to the situation: she was small and her good shape would prove useful to move and avoid incoming attacks. As such, she didn't hesitate a single second to carry out her strategy.

She dashed towards Trent, who was about to pick the gun up from the floor, and she kicked it further away with strength. She was about to start running towards it when Trent suddenly caught her ankle and twisted it, making her fall down with a dull thud. She bumped her chin against the cold floor, but it wasn't the time to worry about her injuries, and she blinked away the tears of pain. She fought and wriggled to free herself and Annette suddenly rushed to her aid, stepping on Trent's hand as she told her to hurry. Sherry, picking up the gun herself and leaving her mother, headed towards the struggling Wesker and William, suddenly finding herself with no idea of what to do.

She didn't know how to use the gun or even why she had it in her hand; her mind had gone blank in just a flash. Also, she didn't know why she was running towards her father, but she soon found out as she was only five steps away from him.

Annette, who had struggled to stand her ground against Trent to keep him from reaching Sherry, realized in horror what she was about to do. The momentary distraction gave Trent the opportunity to elbow Annette's ribs harder than before, and she cried out in pain and surprise.

It wasn't the time to bother with him; her daughter would be walking right towards her death if she didn't stop William. Knowing what he had done in Raccoon, Annette understood he wouldn't hesitate to do so again.

Birkin seemed unfazed by exhaustion, as if the concept was literally unknown to him. Wesker didn't expect otherwise though, knowing how rapidly the virus had started to act, giving him incredible strength and stamina… but at a very high price. Thanks to the serum he'd administered William minutes earlier, the virus' amplification process had been halted but with such a high quantity of the agent within his body, desperately struggling to trigger his mutation, the serum's effects wouldn't last long. And that was the exact reason Wesker had to work quickly; if not, things could go awry.

The situation was getting out of hand, and Wesker _couldn't_ cope with that. As much as it vexed him, the more he thought about a possible alternative, the more difficulty he had to find one. He had almost nothing to defend himself, but he had to remind himself the reasons: weapons against William in his current state would be their doom, and he couldn't afford to cause him more physical strain. If he kept getting worked up, Birkin would eventually reach his limits and the mutation would start.

And the nightmare would repeat itself, with only one minor difference: Wesker wouldn't be in the sidelines this time.

When William was about to step forward again, he also stepped forward to restrain him, but his efforts weren't necessary. William stopped dead in his tracks, a sudden look of anxious horror across his features. Such emotions were practically non-existent for the monster that attempted to show itself again, so out of a quick deduction, Wesker thanked that persistence -almost extreme- was one of Birkin's best traits, because that was what would help him now, nothing else.

It was partly because of the spark of sanity that he stopped, but then Wesker noticed someone behind William, somebody shorter.

Sherry.

With determination that was faltering and strengthening at the same time, the girl was holding her father at gunpoint. She was clearly hesitant and afraid, unable to control the tremble of her legs; still, her arms didn't move, tense and ready. She kept her finger away from the trigger, but it was still close enough for her not to take more than a second to pull it.

Slowly, Birkin looked back, and Sherry found it difficult to avoid the gasp that threatened to escape her lips. She witnessed what the beginning of the mutation had done to his body, and her stomach churned. His shirt was completely stained crimson, and only a few patches remained white. Looking at his bloodstained jaw-line, the realization harshly hit Sherry: he had been about to bleed to death without a reason, without a visible injury that had been inflicted, and she didn't understand how he could still be alive.

"Don't you dare shoot, Sherry, not if you want to keep him alive." Wesker said in a threatening undertone, and Sherry couldn't agree more than she did already. Of course, a bullet to the head was a successful method to kill instantly, but she somehow understood the other meaning of that statement. Besides, she just wouldn't be able to do it, no matter for how long she argued with her mind. A sensible thought would be to shoot the same moment she saw her life endanger; the irrational one was to wait and to stand still. She couldn't kill her father, directly or indirectly.

What they didn't expect was what Trent did next.

"Stop!" Wesker felt a harsh but useful rush of adrenaline, and his first and only reaction was to step forward and attempt to push William out of the way.

Trent had approached Sherry from behind and it was his hand which was now closed around the gun's handle, his finger ready to shoot it. Sherry didn't have any time to react, and she could already see the outcome of her failed plan because of her carelessness. Wesker managed to push Birkin out of the way, but now _he_ was the bullet's target. He suddenly stopped, slipped and attempted to jump back, but there was no way he could avoid falling down.

Trent slid his finger to the trigger.

They all heard a shot, but one that didn't come from Trent's gun _at all_.

Wesker looked up, Annette turned around, and they both saw a person who was familiar to the former.

It was Samantha, and the muzzle of her gun was trained on Trent's shoulder.

"It's time you died already, you goddamned son of a bitch!" she bellowed in fury and with surprising strength in spite of being breathless. Another bullet, and she hit Trent's other shoulder. The man stumbled to one side, standing up and turning around as he ignored the pain as much as he could.

Annette quickly approached the dying Trent and retrieved Sherry, holding her tightly against her chest away from his grasp. Sherry was trying desperately not to have a nervous breakdown; the tension was killing her. Her eyes were wide, staring solely at William, who had seemed to regain a few moments of sanity.

"You damned shrew!" Trent shouted in response after losing his composure. Samantha approached the group, gun still aimed at the man, and she bared her teeth fiercely at him. Trent slumped against the wall and didn't resist; it would be foolish to endanger his life further. Well, he was screwed after all; he knew Wesker wouldn't be merciful. He was just a cold-blooded bastard, and now his dislike towards the man spiked and reached higher levels.

"Wesker!"

He half-turned and the sight just struck him as a horrible surprise: William had fallen unconscious in Annette's arms, and he knew very well what that would cause. He was running out of time. His decision was instant.

"Samantha, I'll grant you the pleasure of finishing him off. As much as I would like to stay and do it myself, I have more important matters to take care of." He told her, his voice cold as ice. "Meet me at Lab 5; don't take too long."

"Gotcha." Samantha nodded sharply. Wesker got down to work: along Annette, he helped the unconscious Birkin up and they quickly headed down the hall, Sherry following closely. The pain in her ribs was intense and persistent, but Annette didn't have the time to attend to her wounds or even complain. If there was a time to show her strength and prove her determination, it was now.

Sherry desperately wanted to ask if William would make it out, since she worried to death and was aware of what was happening. The little knowledge she had about the G-virus had helped her understand. She'd collected the information from the many conversations she'd heard between the scientists that had treated her, and that was when it hit her.

She hadn't felt the virus's effects in more than an hour. What had happened?

She almost bumped into Wesker when he stopped suddenly, having the feeling they had reached their destination. In fact, they had: Lab 5 stretched out before them as they crossed the doorway. It was wide and full of experimentation tools, and she remembered that this same lab had been the place where she'd been treated.

"Sherry, look through that set of test tubes and bring me the one labelled '**Gene A**', hurry." Wesker issued the orders swiftly, no trace of tension in his voice. "Let's lie him down here, Annette." As he indicated, they laid William on the long examination table. Sherry returned to where they were a couple of seconds later, vial in hand. "Keep an eye on him; if he moves more than he should, hold him down. We can't afford to make any mistakes."

"What's that?" Annette inquired, watching Wesker place the vial into a machine similar to the VAM in the Raccoon lab and punch in some codes. He didn't reply immediately, first focusing on activating the machine.

"A serum to stop the mutation or, at least, slow it down." He replied simply.

"But wasn't the virus too quick to be stopped by a vaccine?" asked Sherry gingerly, fearing Wesker's answer. "Besides, the mutations have already started!"

"That might be true, but how come William hasn't mutated once in this last month after he made it out of Raccoon City?" Wesker retorted rhetorically. "The only plausible explanation is because the virus entered a dormant state, just like it did within you, Sherry." He typed in a command and the machine whirred loudly, finishing its work. "The serum I administered him before will certainly prove itself to be an obstacle for the virus, thus slowing down the mutation process and, per ende, its mitosis. Its effects are strong in spite of their short duration. Believe me, Gene isn't as fast as you think it is; even a virus like this has its weaknesses."

Annette hoped he was right. She knew thinking about a possibility to save William at such a juncture was nothing far from impossible, but there were always ways to solve a problem like the one they had at hand. The serum was--

It suddenly clicked. "What's the vaccine made with?" she quickly piped up, her voice demanding. Wesker finally looked up from the computer screen and stared at her long and hard.

"Your daughter's antibodies." He said. "The serums I administered her were exactly the same as the one in preparation right now, although this vaccine is a tad more complex and, if God's willing to make it so, more effective."

In that moment, William coughed painfully, his breathing laboured and weak. His whole body tensed and he gave out a dull groan through gritted teeth. Wesker felt his impatience grow; the machine was taking too long for such an easy task.

_Come on…_

The more they waited, the worse William's state was. The virus was slowly starting to work again, and it wouldn't be long until it had spread throughout his body again. The only thing they could rely on was the antibodies Sherry had developed against the constant infections and Wesker's handy serums, but he knew they wouldn't last long enough against the frenzied nature of the agent.

The machine beeped loudly and Wesker procured the finished vaccine, approaching a now spasming William. With her jacket and her belt, Annette was desperately trying to hold the flow of blood from the gash at his shoulder with a makeshift tourniquet, but the blood didn't relent and William was paling considerably.

"Damn, it's too much!" she exclaimed, her voice quivering. "He's going to die if the wound doesn't stop bleeding!" She shook her head. "It's the third eye! He's not going to make it!"

As much as he wanted to say it, Wesker couldn't tell her to calm down; even he was under distress. They could hear the wet smack of the eye forming under his flesh, a sound that made Wesker's own stomach churn. Of course, he'd faced problems and creatures that were quite disgusting, but G-mutated organisms took the prize this time, and there was no arguing it. Wesker quickly proceeded to inject him with it and as the liquid slowly entered his veins, Birkin cried out in agony unconsciously. The serum was starting to have effect, a small reason to hope. Annette watched in awe, and Sherry just clung to hope.

Only with a miracle would William win the raging battle inside his body.

_And now we wait…_ Wesker thought, crossing his arms and sighing inwardly. _Come on, old friend: it's time you finished this._

But deep down, he knew William Birkin was already dead.

* * *

_A/N: Alright. I have to say something: since I'm in quite a deep mess now that I've delved into the matter and discovered what Gene can do, and I've also noticed thing weren't going to go as planned, this story will be turning canonical in its own way at the end. I believe you can guess what's going to happen, but I'm just warning you._

_As for Leon and the others, we will be returning with them soon. You'll soon know why Carlos is actually helping them (was that a spoiler? xD) and who set the whole thing up. Stay tuned for more!^^  
_


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